


Godric's Queen and Slytherin's Heir

by Chevy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Secret Relationship, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, language warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1528886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chevy/pseuds/Chevy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst beyond the once-hallowed walls of Hogwarts a bloody war storms on, unknown to most, an equally bloody guerrilla battle rages within the school. In this disguised torture house, a silent conflict is being fought by the valiant of Dumbledore's Army. The students are locked inside, unable to leave and unable to get word out of the atrocities being enacted upon them.</p><p>It is in this climate that Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom, the core of the mighty Dumbledore's Army leadership, are caught. Their fates are entwined in the hands of one Draco Malfoy, Death Eater. When Ginny uncovers is a secret buried deep in the fabric of all she holds dear, it might just change the course of the Seconding Wizarding War forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Gi-! No! Run!"

Neville's broken words still echoed on and on in her head, in much the same way as they had rebounded off the stone hall. The way he'd almost said her name and then cut himself off. The way he'd seen her skid to a stop and ordered her to run. Well, of course she wasn't going to run! Not when she felt, rather that saw, the brief flash of red strike Neville down with a terrible scream. It had ground her to a halt. She knew the exact shade of a Stunning Spell, and that wasn't it. 

Now she gritted her bloody teeth as strands of her hair, wrapped around Vincent Crabbe's meaty fist were ripped from her scalp. Her pale blue eyes rolled in her head as she tried to see something other than the ceiling. Crisp footsteps echoed on the flagstones and she heard Neville groan beside her.

"What have we here?" chuckled the thick, gruff tones of Amycus Carrow. His wide face loomed in her vision, then the business end of his wand as he uselessly tried to remove the magicked, fiery red mask, its smooth contours caught gracefully in the shape of a victoriously shrieking phoenix. It did not move. With a brief curse, he lowered his wand.

"No matter. Who would it be other than the little lioness hiding behind the phoenix..." he sneered.

She spat messily through her teeth at him. She missed and he slapped her so hard it slung her head to the side and left Crabbe with a fistful of brilliant crimson. He turned to Neville.

"...and her dopey sidekick, no doubt. Crabbe tells me we would never have caught her if she hadn't come back for _him_ -"

Neville grunted when Alecto kicked him. Amycus laughed. Ginny almost did as well; they were running blind and they knew it. They could not remove the masks as much as they tried and they could not be sure that they were truly dealing with the rebel leaders for as long as their features remained obscured. Neville and Ginny's dorm mates would swear black-and-blue, in the most literal form of the phrase, that the two of them had been in their beds the whole night.

"How perfectly predictable. And the others?"

"Spending the night in the dungeons. Snape said-"

"What's going on here?"

A new voice. Cold, haughty, commanding answers. The sound of a sneer and the tone like the washing of waves against a stone beach that could only be one person. Ginny, shaking on her hands and knees, looked up and snarled wordlessly.

"Draco, darling. You're just in time. We were just deciding what should be done with these delightful little...revolutionaries" cooed Alecto.

The bored, cold mask never altered as his ice-blue eyes flicked over the badly beaten pair of Gryffindors.

 _God help me, I thought you were so bloody fit once_  thought Ginny in disgust, recalling giggling, sugar-driven girl-fests, giggling in her dorm as they rated the Hogwarts boys. He'd always been forbidden, deliciously illicit and dangerous, all of it adding to the allure in those secret declarations in the confessional of curtained four-poster beds. He of the sleek blonde hair and the glacial blue-grey eyes, porcelain skin and the perilous smirk. Even the youngest of the girls understood his polished appeal, at some level reacting to, if not fully comprehending, the lustful attraction that he wore like a second skin.

"Here I was thinking maybe they'd given up with Loony gone" he commented offhandedly.

Neville snarled and tried to get up; Amycus had his boot squarely in the centre of his chest. Ginny's lips twisted. For a moment, a heartbeat, their eyes met; blue of midday summer and the blue of glaciers in full winter and something, something new and strange, glinted there in the wintery Malfoy orbs.

"Stay down you little shit...-" Amycus snarled at Neville before he looked up at Draco. "-So what do you think, Draccy-boy? What should we do with them?"

The Malfoy heir shrugged; a nonchalant lifting of one lean shoulder blade that rippled his rich, woollen cloak, shifting the leather satchel slung on his shoulder, and brushed invisible lint from his impeccable black shirt. This was not how he planned to end his late night in the library.

"Why should I care?" he drawled. 

Amycus and Alecto exchanged a look. Ginny swallowed. Alecto sauntered up beside him and slung one long arm around his neck. It was awkward, Draco standing at least a foot and a half taller than her, leaner and more lithe than the twisted female Death Eater. Ginny did not miss the way his nose twitched minutely and his weight shifted away from her.

"Why, little Draccy, Amycus and I are furthering your _education_ of course! What use are you to the Dark Lord if you can't...dish out, a little... _discipline_ " the word oozed from her lips like poisoned honey. Draco had to repress a shudder and instead looked at Ginny. His cold eyes did not remain on her face this time; they dipped down and grazed along her body, the way her lithe muscles moved under her shirt as Crabbe dragged her by the hair and an arm twisted behind her back, to sit up awkwardly on her heels.

"Is that the Weaslette?" he questioned.

Amycus chortled at the darkness in the boy's eyes. "We think so"

"I want her" he demanded softly, after a moment's pause, even as the Carrow's guessed his intentions.

"No!" Neville struggled and Ginny clawed furiously at Crabbe's wrist.

"Like _hell_!" she bellowed.

Amycus silenced Neville with a hex that made him cough up blood, while Draco waved his wand once at Ginny, silencing the string of curses pouring from her mouth.

"There's no need for such language from that filthy little mouth, Weaslette" he remarked and turned his wand on Neville. Amycus had moved off him, but the Gryffindor boy wasn't going anywhere fast. He was half upright on his side, clots of blood being hacked up and splattering the floor around him. Draco was looking at Ginny as she watched, wide-eyed and terrified for her friend, an ice-cold smirk playing his lips. "What'll it be, princess? Put that disgusting mouth of yours to better use...or watch Short-Arse here cough up his own fat lungs" He flicked his wand at Neville, who slammed against the hallway wall, leaving a smear of blood behind him.

Ginny screamed silently, fighting to get to her feet, but Crabbe shoved her back to her knees. Her scalp was bleeding now; two tears somehow made it past the iron walls behind the mask and slid down her face. At the back of her mind, she thanked the ingenious barrier. Behind it, she could be as terrified as she liked, as horrified at Neville's suffering as she saw fit and the pretty monster before her could not use it against her. Calmly, Draco leaned on the wall next to Neville's heaving body, cocked his head and watched her struggle.

"C'mon, Weaslette. Where's all that _famous_ Gryffindor courage now, huh? Or did you lose it all when Potty ran away and _left_ you?"

Amycus and Alecto laughed, thoroughly enjoying the show. He was Death Eater through and through this one; in the same cold manner of his father. Before Lucius had gotten soft, that is. Alecto shared her thoughts with her brother loudly, but Draco did not react. His attention was on Ginny. Finally unable to stand her friend's dry-land drowning any longer, Ginny glared furiously at Draco and nodded painfully. He smirked and took the silencing spell off her, stalking close. He crouched so they were eye to eye and forced her to look at him.

"Say it out loud, Weaslette" he ordered her.

Her lips quivered before her tightly clenched jaw. "I yield. Let him go" she whispered.

"You submit to letting me fuck you stupid because you are a disgusting, Blood Traitor whore?"

Another tear made a trail down her bruised face and her body shook with self-deprecating horror. She nodded shortly.

"Say it!" he snarled.

She jerked at his shout in her face, her features warping with the perversity of the words, but she spat them out, looking him straight in the face, each sound spoken like a death threat. Throwing her face away like she disgusted him, Draco stood smoothly and whirled in a well-oiled dueller's motion, throwing the counter-hex into Longbottom almost violently. Amycus raised an eyebrow; wordless magic, clean technique, and the counter-curse to a highly advanced piece of Dark magic?

"Been taking lessons from Aunty Bella, Draccy?" he commented casually.

Draco said nothing as, gasping, Neville caught his breath, the air still sounding liquid in his lungs.

"The dungeons for him, I believe, Professors?" Draco addressed Alecto and Amycus politely, a model student as he took Ginny's arm and yanked her roughly to her feet. She stood beside him, swaying a little, head down. Alecto laughed and gave Longbottom a kick, getting him to his feet. The Gryffindor boy met his friend's eyes desperately, face twisted in grief and horror.

"No..." he gasped weakly, blood splattering against his chin. She lifted her face, giving him warped sort of smile.

"I'll be alright. Get out of here" she whispered, choked. Draco squeezed her arm and Ginny looked at him sharply. It wasn't a _shut-up-you-little-whor_ e sort of squeeze; it was almost, kind of, strangely, reassuring...

"Ten points to Slytherin for a bloody good show, Malfoy. You have a good night now" Amycus leered with a sleazy wink.

Ginny flinched as if she'd been slapped. Draco tightened his hold on her arm, painfully this time, and smirked yet again.

"I'm sure I will"

Propelling her strongly by her arm, Draco shoved her along passageways and staircases, not speaking until they came to a black panelled door. Her innate sense of direction, perhaps a gift handed down from Fred and George's mischief-fuelled wanderings, told her they were above the dungeons.

"Where the hell are we?" she snapped, tugging on her arm. Draco gripped hard enough to cause bruises.

"Shut up Weasley" he ordered her.

"Shouldn't be so sure I am who you think I am" she said in a sing-song, automatically. He snorted as a face moulded itself from the darkness of the door; hollows for eyes, lips, a nose.

"Password?" it intoned coolly.

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper!" he ordered. It opened, admitting the pair into a dark, obviously well moneyed common-room, to which Draco unceremoniously shoved Ginny. She promptly tripped on the corner of the rug and sprawled on the lush Ottoman. Flipping herself immediately back her feet, she backed warily towards the fireplace, all the while watching him, her hands by her sides ready to fight. She and Neville had their wands taken, as usual, and she was thinking to arm herself with the wrought silver and iron poker. She wasn't concerned about the confiscation of the extention of her right hand, as it would find way back by way of a certain cat Animagus Professor. Instead of pouncing on her, Draco strode past, completely ignoring her. He kicked his shoes off and slung his satchel onto the dark leather couch. _Godric's pants_ thought Ginny as her eyes widened, taking a second look at the piece of furniture. Dragon leather couch and an armchair to match?

"The bathroom's through there. There's blankets on the armchair. Ring the bell by the fire if you want something to eat" he said shortly, moving through the room to the second door, opposite to where he gestured for the bathroom. Ginny frowned, watching in confusion, and her muscles did not relax.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

Tossing his cloak on the back of the armchair with blankets and loosening his shirt collar, he gestured impatiently to the door. "To bed"

He kicked open the door. Ginny was still standing tensely by the fireplace when he turned, the top four or five buttons of his shirt undone, to shut his door. Seeing this, he sighed heavily. The dying fire's dull reflection glistened on the slice of pale torso.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Weaslette. I don't share with _Potter_...-" something seemed to catch his memory, because he looked down a hand hovering above his shirt buttons, as though suddenly unaware of her existence."-At least, I don't share you" he added, softly, no trace of venom in his voice.

"What?" He blinked in surprise; she'd drawn closer and, apparently, he had not meant to say that loud enough for her to hear. His heart lurched for a moment; what if she really wasn't Ginny Weasley? He ran through in his mind how many red-haired girls there were at Hogwarts who would dare to associate themselves with the DA. "What did you just say?" she had taken another step closer. There was equal parts anger and curiosity in her stance now. He almost shook his head at her stupidity; curious? Of a Death Eater? She was definitely a Weasley.

"Goodnight, Weasley" he barked and slammed his door shut.


	2. Chapter 2

"Stupify!"

Ginny hit the unforgiving flagstones with something like a coming-home sensation. After all, it had been a whole three weeks since she'd felt the merciless agony of a Cruciatus curse awakening every nerve ending in her body. So now, when it came, she almost welcomed it. At least now, with the coppery taste of blood flooding her mouth as she pierced her lip in an effort to contain her screams, she knew she was alive. She knew that there was a living being behind the smoky-like, glassy curves of the phoenix mask. Not just some phantom existing in some warped dimension behind the Veil where they learned of the inferiority of Muggles and watched the classmates succumb one by one to the Unforgivable Curses. Flipped on her back, she looked at the words scrawled above her head, written across the wall in crimson, powder blue, emerald green and yellow; **DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY: STILL RECRUITING** it exclaimed. It had been Luna's idea to write in the House colours and the inclusion of the green had occurred only when Cho Chang had said, softly; 'We are only as strong as we are united'. It had been Dean Thomas' touch, charming it so it only got brighter when one tried to remove it. She could hear her ex-boyfriend now, grunting at the blunt toes of Crabbe or Goyle's shoes in his ribs. She wondered where their dear, clueless friend Luna was now. Whether she was even alive. There was no way of knowing, no way of asking the outside world. They were almost completely sure the mail was censored, but even if it wasn't, she still would have played down the atrocities that dwelt behind the once sanctioned walls of Hogwarts. Molly had enough on her mind with Ron off with Harry. The only sanctuary left to the members of the Army now was behind the magicked door of the Room of Requirement, which had moved from the corridor it had been on and appeared to the Creevey brothers when they were running away from Slytherins. They had been thinking of a way of asking the Room for a secret way out of Hogwarts, into Hogsmeade, thinking that surely not everyone in the town had succumbed to the Death Eater's spells. Neville thought the Hogs Head was their best bet, and fitting too. After all, the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army had been in the bar of the Hogs Head.

Her friends had been quiet ever since she returned from Draco's chambers for the first time, unwilling to speak of it, unwilling even to ask. A part of her resented that; what if the blonde ferret really had touched her? What if he hadn't wordlessly shoved blankets her way the last time she chose, head hung, to spend the night with him rather than watch her friend's torment? Would she feel differently of her friend's reluctance to speak, their self-imposed silence, then? This time, the Carrows didn't torture them for long. They didn't even ask her, make her suffer with her betrayal of the Boy-Who-Lived by running into his enemy's bed. They called her a whore, laughed in her face, asked her _what would your darling mummy and daddy say if they saw you now?_ but there was something less than the usual cutting poison in their words. They even seemed...distracted.

Her heart sang under its beat that maybe, just maybe, the Golden Trio or the Order were accomplishing something against the almighty tyranny of the Death Eater scourge. With these words, they shoved her aching body in Goyle's pudgy arms and he frogmarched her to Draco's quarters. Her heart thudded as they approached the nondescript black door. What if this was the final straw? What if Draco-no, not _Draco_ , dammit, _Malfoy_ -what if he opened the door and decided that this was the night he didn't mind... _sharing with Potter_? She still hadn't worked out why he got his own chambers, or why they were so lushly furnished. She'd heard the Malfoy fortune was all but drained from the war; how then, did he walk on Ottoman rugs, with dragon leather couches and hardwood furniture; a bookshelf, a coffee table. The bathroom was black marble with a claw-foot bathtub and an antique mirror. Though she had never ventured into his bedroom, she had a mind to think it was as darkly awing and sinisterly beautiful as the rest of the place. In the back of her stubborn mind, she registered that she quite liked it, all things considered. The only one thing that made her shudder was the House of Malfoy crest hanging above the mantelpiece. It was from here she deduced the meaning of his password; the motto inscribed below the twisted green, silver and black serpentine design. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper; Purity always conquers.

The black-panelled door swung inwards and a dishevelled, half-awake and half-naked Draco stood in the frame, looking pissed off. His eyes were electric when he was angry, flashing like super-heated lightning and added to the creamy lines of muscles traversing his tall form, he was a pale, aggressive force of nature personified standing there, glaring at them.

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake!" he cried upon seeing her, because it could only be her, in Goyle's awkward hold.

"Oh, Malfoy, yer're asleep" said Goyle, sounding surprised.

"No, Goyle, at four in the ruddy morning, I'm writing fucking poetry!" he snarled.

Retreating clumsily from Malfoy's wrath, Goyle stumbled backwards, dragging Ginny with him. The movement tugged on her twisted arms and she let out an involuntary cry.  Something that lanced across Draco's features for a split second and he reached out and grabbed her.

"Salazar Almighty, give her here. I'll deal with it in the morning. Go to bed, Greg" he ordered, yanking her inside and slamming the door in a very confused-looking Gregory Goyle's face.

As soon as it shut, the pure intensity of his anger made even the great Ginerva Weasley take a step back. It rolled off his well-muscled upper body in icy sheets and for the first time in her life, she was suddenly shocked into true fear of Draco Malfoy. The potential for sudden, cold, bloody violence that was encapsulated in those broad shoulders, the sharply defined arms and chest, the shifting of pure, latent cruelty beneath his pale skin, was breath-taking. She furtively promised that if she got out of that room unharmed, she would never, ever underestimate anyone just because they acted like a coward. She watched with determined trepidation as he pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, counted silently to ten, and then slowly opened his eyes.

"Bugger it. You're still here!" he said accusatorily. She said nothing and he sighed heavily, massaging his neck with sudden exhaustion. "You know, if I didn't know better Weaslette, I'd say you were coming onto me with all these late night visits" he said wryly.

She crooked an eyebrow. Humor? From a previously furious Malfoy?

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, suddenly tired as well.

For a long moment, they stood, just apart, studying one another, trying to find some mutual understanding, some familiar ground in which to stand on. There was none. His eyes glittered.

"You know, Ginny, in my wildest dreams, you'll understand that someday" Ignoring the jolt it gave her to hear her given name on his lips, she raised an eyebrow.

"And you can't just tell me?"

In a belittling kind of way, Draco shook his head. "I really can't. You know the drill, Weasley; bathroom, blankets, food. Goodnight"

* * *

 

It was about nine o'clock the following night when Draco heard his front door swing open and sighed heavily, pushing himself back from the desk in his bedroom. The Carrow's were the only ones, apart from himself and Ginny, who knew the password to get in here, and the only others who could enter without setting off his defence alarms. Only Snape could alter the password; it was by the direct orders of the new Headmaster that the Malfoy heir be allowed his own chambers, officially in case of his being called upon by the Dark Lord for duty. If there was even a sliver of a chance that they both survive the coming finale, he'd very much like to know the Headmaster's real reason for allowing Draco the almost-sanctuary of his own rooms. 'Almost' for Draco was, beneath the surface, as subject to the Carrows' whims as every other student. It was just better hidden.

Ginny, and possibly a large percentage of the population of Hogwarts, would have been surprised to see how _light_ his room was. How simplistically elegant it was; a large desk in pale oak and a comfortable chair before it in light grey. A tall window near the bed with a window seat and a small, delicate, white bookshelf within reach of it. A matching bedside table housed two dark photo frames and an ashtray. The spacious King abounded silver covers and light green silken hangings. The floor was bare and the small hearth in the corner merry. Understated, tasteful. Yet still managing to scream wealth and serpents. His mother's influence. Crossing the room, he opened his bedroom door just as Amycus roared his name.

"Oi _Draccy_! Come see what auntie Alecto an' uncle Amycus 'ave brought ya!"

He was sorely tempted to point out that it was a great blasphemy to the Malfoy name to even suggest there was such a close relationship between the Carrows and the Malfoys. There was a reason in-breeding was so damn popular in the Middle Ages, and it was to keep apish characteristics such as _theirs_ a long, long way from _his_ bloodline. However, he was certainly not in a position to be saying such things, with his father on the outer circumference of the Dark Lord's circle and one Ginerva Weasley glaring at him from beside Alecto, magically bound in a way that suggested she'd been grabbed from her Commonroom. He cursed the girl quietly. Was it possible she had somehow inherited her boyfriend's knack for getting into trouble? Or was this a trait all her lot possessed? There were three others with them. One of them could have been a Black; he had the gangly, dark features of one, the same pitiless eyes and face. The other two possessed the same primitive bearing of the Carrows: Alecto was speaking animatedly to them. Of the two Draco recognised, one was a Ministry mole and the other an associate of Greyback's. The third one, the Black-esque one, he did not, and it made him nervous. It did not show however, as he plastered a fake smile of greeting on his face and stepped forward, paying no attention to his state of undress; expensive slacks, socks, singlet.

"Good evening, professors. Can I offer you something to drink?"

"I should ruddy say so! You got any idea what I've had to put up with today, Draccy my lad? Better make it a double!"

He smiled politely as he summoned a house elf from the kitchens and gave an order for Firewhiskey and plenty of it. The strangers were not introduced. Draco took this either to mean he was not important enough to be introduced to them, or that _they_ knew who _he_ was and the Carrows didn't give a damn if the feeling wasn't mutual. The house elf arrived, staggering under the weight of the tray of alcohol. Roaring at something one of the other Death Eaters had said, a punch line that Draco had obviously missed, Alecto summoned the coffee table.

"Hey, Malfoy, tell the boys what you call flame-head here" she called jovially, her eyes crawling all over Ginny, who stood stiffly to the side. His eyes flicked up to her from an off-hand examination of his nails.

"Weaslette"

Amycus chortled loudly, the others joining in. Draco smiled tightly. It wasn't the first time this had happened. They'd come in, drink, bawl rowdily and mess up his place, then either pass out on the floor or leave. The only difference this time was the presence of one Ginny Weasley, but he had a hunch on her significance. They were checking up on him, possibly because Goyle mentioned something about the night he'd grabbed Ginny while tired and angry. As if he was _protecting_ her from a night in the dungeons... or worse. Cursing himself silently, he ran a hand over his jaw tiredly and waited.

"Bahaha- _Weaslette_ ; that's a good one, Draccy. Come up with that all by yourself, d'ja?"

Nobody, not even the Carrow's, saw the sharp flick of his wand as it appeared, seemingly from thin air. The Death Eater who reminded Draco of a Black was struck in the chest by an invisible kick, doubling him over and to his knees. By the time the gathered minds had caught up to what their eyes were seeing, Draco was on his feet, wand out, stance ready. It was, however impulsive it may have seemed, a calculated gesture. If he was immediately attacked with a plethora of Dark magic, this man he did not recognise was important; if he was not, this man was nothing to fear and the board was set.

"Don't call me Draccy" he said, softly as a summer's breeze.

The Death Eater exploded to his feet, wand in hand, his fury tangible. "You upstart little-!"

"I reeaalllyy wouldn't do that, Orion. This one was taught by Bellatrix Lestrange" Amycus commented lazily, pouring himself a glass of Firewhiskey as though it didn't bother him whatever way the heightening tension went. Ginny had shrunk back, eyes glinting as she prepared for a fight. Orion hesitated, measuring Draco with his eyes. In response, Draco gave the blistering Malfoy smirk, his eyes chips of frozen stone. Oh. So he had one up on the stranger named Orion. Draco smirked. His wand never wavered.

This was good.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco stood, facing the stranger called Orion, their wands still naked and their offensive positions mirrored. Finally, as the sword trembled on its horsehair, Orion lowered his wand slowly and Amycus gestured to Draco to do the same. As if he had some control over the young protégé. Lightening the tension, Alecto clicked her fingers curtly at Ginny then the whiskey on the table.

"Oi, make yourself useful, slut"

Ginny stiffened, eyes narrowing in a typical irritated Weasley woman expression, and glanced at Draco. He didn't know why she did, but he cocked his eyebrows and gave a gentle head jerk that could have meant anything. Fists curling by her sides, Ginny made her way forward and snatched up the drinks. At this, nobody was more surprised than he! Amycus saw the brief exchange and raised his eyebrows with a cruel laugh.

"I'll be damned, Malfoy. You've got her well and truly whipped, you have"

Playing it, and thanking his lucky stars that she was smarter than her brothers, he took a glass from the tray and raised it in salute.

"Any beast can be tamed, professor" he said modestly and ignored her seething glare. "Though, honestly, I prefer the mask to the face" he added insultingly.

Ginny's back stiffened and her lips twitched in a silent snarl. The Death Eater majority roared with laughed. Draco smirked with one side of his mouth. If everything continued to play out at this pace, he decided, he and Ginny might just get out of this situation without any blood being spilt...or her pride being...

He cut that thought off before it was fully formed as Orion caught a lock of her long red hair between his fingers and sniffed appreciatively, laughing as she yanked it out of his hand and growled.

"Don't 'spose you'd mind my havin' a go, would you now...Malfoy?"

Draco was holding his glass to the flames, admiring their dance through amber liquid.

"I don't normally share my toys, sir-" he began slowly, eyes still on the sloshing light brown flames. He looked up slowly with a pleasant half-smile. "-And I assure you she's not worth the trouble. Salute"

Ginny shuddered at the ease in which Draco staked his, however falsified, claim and shot back the fiery liquor without reaction in the same breath. Who was this boy-man? The same one she'd watched torment her brothers and saunter around the school as if he owned the place? The same one who'd once apologised for bumping into her before he realised who it was? Whose father had set her up to be possessed by Tom Riddle, by Voldemort's Horcrux? Who had almost killed Professor Dumbledore, Katie Bell and her own brother? Who ultimately answered to Voldemort? Who had saved her three times before this from long, cold, spirit-destroying nights in the dungeons and in doing so, perhaps without meaning to, rescued her friends from many hours of torture at the hands of the Carrows, simply because they could?

Orion didn't seem to be willing to give up that easily and caught the edge of her school shirt, tugging her back when she tried to leave him. After staggering the tray in a balancing act to keep the glasses, she turned her head to glare. The expression, however, was cut short when she looked the Death Eater in the eyes. They were pits round pits of coal; depthless, dusty and lifeless. Her breath caught and her mind shorted out in horror as his hand slipped up her ribs.

"Weaslette. I think the professors need a top up" Draco's voice broke the trance and she pulled away again. This time, Orion let her go, but his eyes never left her.

Draco traced the wet edge of his glass until Ginny straightened from pouring Amycus and Alecto's drinks.

"Put the tray down, Weaslette" he ordered.

Although visibly his eyes never wavered from their hot perusal of the youngest Weasley, he was watching two things as, back stiff, she replaced the tray on the coffee table. The first was Amycus. The male Carrow had his head to the side as he watched the exchange between Ginny and Draco with interest. Yes, he was testing this young, so-called protégé, looking for a weakness, looking for a double-cross. The word had spread of his attempt on Dumbledore's life, throwing doubt on the Malfoy heir's loyalties. The second factor which Draco eyed was Orion. He was watching Ginny move with hunger, and Draco with growing hatred. In a movement of extraordinary grace, Draco half rose in his seat, snagged her around the waist and yanked her back into his lap. A gesture of ownership on the surface, and one of practicality beneath it. Close to him, a lapdog, she was safer than she was standing in the open. He wondered if she could feel his heart pounding through his singlet; this was the closest he'd been to a woman in over a year. The Carrow's laughed at the look of pure hatred on Ginny's face as she twisted, raising a hand as though to slap him. With a Seeker's and a duellist's razor-edge reflexes, Draco caught her wrist and held her gaze stonily. 

"Mind that hand, Weaslette. I don't enjoy breaking my playthings until they become boring...but your temper is fast becoming tedious" He was close enough to her to hear her jaw clench as she stopped the oath rising to her lips, no doubt cursing him and his decedents direly. As her eyes dropped, he turned slightly to pay attention to the conversation now evolving before him.

"-an' this lil upstart says 'You'd torture him for something you're not even sure 'e did?', questioning me like, an' then Alecto says; 'Darlin' I've killed for less'. This boy's face was whiter'n' sheets, it was!-"

"Surely not St Mungo's sheet? Right old mess we left it in last time" the werewolf inserted with a predatory grin, mockingly licking his lips.

Ginny's lips twisted in a soundless snarl and before Draco could do anything, she'd spoken loudly over the laughter.

"Yes, because attacking wounded witches and wizards in their sleep is really dangerous. You're all real bloody daring to pull something like that" she snapped.

All eyes zeroed in on her. Draco sent a quick prayer to whoever was still listening to him, taking back anything he had ever thought about her being smarter than her brothers, and threw her to the floor. She landed with a thud on the hearth and reached for a wand that wasn't there; it was in Alecto's hand. Amycus pitched his glass at her; it shattered against the stone fireplace and sprayed her with vicious shards of glass in the flare of flames that followed.

"P'raps you should throw this toyout, Draco. I'm finding her terribly _boring_ " Alecto snarled callously.

Ginny rose to her feet, eyes spitting fire, specks of blood crimson against her skin, dribbling down her arm and face. Draco's heart was pounding as he grabbed her hair and slung her, as gently as he knew how, towards his bedroom.

"Get out!-" he roared, watching Orion from the corner of his eye. Ginny scrambled to her hands and knees and Draco gave his wand a flourish, slamming her to the remorseless carpet. His blood stuttered at the whoosh of air leaving her lungs. "On your knees you little bitch!"

They all watched her as she crawled across the floor to the door, pausing before it, hesitating to stand and open it. Amycus elbowed Draco playfully.

"Go on, Draccy, make sure she remembers her place-"

"Fuck that, why's he get her all to hisself? Share an' share alike, young Malfoy" Orion butted in, hungry eyes on the door.

Alecto chuckled as Draco tensed and laid her hand on the older Death Eater's chest.

"Now, now, Orion, we mustn't steal from children. Let Draco have his fun...go on, Draccy. Teach the Blood Traitor bitch a lesson"

Standing at his door, one hand on the doorknob, Draco hissed in black amusement, turning to face the gathered Death Eaters as he leaned back into the room. "But of course, Professor Carrow" he smirked viciously and slammed the door shut behind him.

All humour vanished from his expression as he swung to face Ginny. She was standing in the middle of the room, her back to him, but whirled to face him, hands clenched, her posture tensed in way that spoke of a duel. But she didn't have a wand.

"You stupid little cow! Take off your clothes!" he snarled, stalking forwards with the lithe, deadly grace of a predator. She backed off, hands before her in a trembling shield.

"Get the _fuck_  away from me Malfoy!" she shouted, ducking to the side. She was fast; his reaching fingers just scraped her soft skin as she got past him. He spun and flicked his wand almost lazily; _Locomotor Mortis._

Ginny hit the ground with a thud and a gasp as the wind was knocked from her body again. Outside, Amycus made a joke that had the others in stitches. The red-haired witch was hauling herself backwards, eyes on him, mouth twisted in a snarl as she struggled with the tight magical bindings on her legs.

"I'll kill you, you bastard! I'll _kill_ you!-"

He was standing over her, a lean, pale figure cloaked in shadows and evil as he stared at her in fury and something else, something black that made her catch her breath.

"You can scream all you like, Weasley; your friends can't hear you" he told her loudly from between gritted teeth, taking the curse from her legs in the next thought.

She leapt up to her feet and he grabbed her, face close to hers. She could taste his breath, the tang of sweets and the burn of Firewhiskey washing over her lips. "When I tell you to scream, do it" he ordered her, his lips barely moving.

"Go fuck yourself" she ordered him.

He let her go and then shouted without raising his wand from his side.

" _Crucio_!"

Ginny threw up her hands in an instinctive, pointless attempt to block the Unforgiveable Curse burning the air between Draco's wand and her unprotected body. Her every muscle tense, she suddenly realised there was no pain, and lifted her head. Then, again before she could react, he was upon her, slamming her against the bed post. His long, graceful fingers wrapped around her throat before she could make a move to stop it.

" _Scream_!" he snarled in her face, his ferocious breath ruffling her fringe, his wand tip hot, stabbing into her side. " _Crucio_!" he roared again, again without lifting his wand, and this time, Ginny did scream; a cracked, strangled shriek that froze the blood of even a Malfoy. "Good girl" he whispered, letting her go. She stumbled a little, freezing in shock when he chivalrously caught her arm to steady her. Their eyes met as she urgently tried to read his next move, but his mask was cast-iron, more complete than any skull over his aristocratic features. "Now. Get on the bed and take your bloody clothes off!..." As these words left his mouth, Draco Malfoy did a strange thing; he flinched and said 'please', but oh so very softly, almost mouthed. Nonetheless, Ginny nearly fainted in shock. What's more, he immediately turned to the side, blood rising hotly up his neck as he pulled off his singlet, dropping it to the floor as he walked back across the chamber to stand before the door and listen at the crack. His muscles shifted under his pale skin. He heard the rustle of clothing as she stripped her school robes and clothes from her lean, pale body and his blush got worse. To distract himself, he focused on the conversation outside the door. The werewolf was speaking, sounding equally surprised and disgusted.

"Fuck-ing hell...really is his father's son, inne?"

Alecto, on the other hand, sounded like a proud mother.

"Ohh yes. Only stronger. Smarter.He'd sell his own whore of a mother if he thought he'd get out of this scrap alive" she laughed at the thought and Draco stomach gave a painful flip.

Hell and damnation; somebody, please, tell him he wasn't that convincing! His mother was the reason he was doing this! His family and his love were his reasons for everything. That's what made him stronger; loyalty, not the ambition that had steeled his father to do despicable things. The things he'd done to become strong enough to protect the ones he loved were only possible if he took everything weak and buried it where nobody could find it. Every scrap of compassion and guilt and kindness and honesty and chivalry had to burn before it drove him mad. He took a cautionary glance over his shoulder; Ginny was sitting on the bed, his covers pulled up over her front. He breathed a sigh of relief; he was almost one hundred percent sure that if Potter found out he'd seen his girlfriend naked before him, the Boy-Who-Lived would hex his balls off. He met her eyes and mouthed _scream_. This time, finally, she didn't question him. She just opened her mouth and let loose an ear-bleeding, horrifying rending of sound waves. Outside in the commonroom there was an uncomfortable silence.

"I think I'm going to take my evening drinks at Hogsmeade" said the Ministry mole with the sound of a shifting seat and shoes squelching in the thick carpet.

"What, can't stomach it, Forrest? You light-weight" Orion laughed.

Alecto joined him and then there was the sound of a hand clapping someone on the shoulder. Alecto had stood to stand with Forrest the mole, flinging her short black hair back from her round face.

"As much as I agree with you, Orion, I think I may join him-" Inside Malfoy's bedchamber, the Blood Traitor screamed again, louder this time and everyone raised an eyebrow. "-Salazar knows it'll be quieter" she added dryly.

"Didn't think he had it in him, honestly" Amycus commented, looking impressed despite himself. Alecto knew he was wishing it was himself in there, ravaging the soft white curves of the fiery little Gryffindor and cringed at the thought. She did _not_ need to think about the things her brother wanted in the bedroom, thank-you-very-much.

"You stayin' here then, Amycus?"

"I'll turn in, in a bit, I reckon" he replied offhandedly.

Draco cursed softly and waited until he heard the door slam shut before ruffling his own hair roughly and turned to Ginny. She was still sitting, naked, in his bed, the covers wrapped modestly around her, eyes on him angrily.

"This might tickle" he whispered and twisted his wand towards her. She flinched and cursed, biting her lip as a brilliant bruise blossomed on the side of her face. It hadn't hurt, his little spell, not really, but she felt it her duty to glare anyway. He nodded in satisfaction then raised his wand again. "...and you're not going to like this" he continued as a spit of purple flew from the tip of his wand and struck her in the face. She didn't even have time to say something snarky before the spell took effect and she passed out. He undid his fly and stripped off so he was standing in just his boxers. Then, taking a slow breath, he counted to twenty and swung open the door, ambling out coolly. It wasn't hard, for a young man like Draco, to look thoroughly shagged even if he wasn't. It was in his nature. Amycus and the werewolf were sitting sprawled around the room with Orion, drinking, and looked up when he entered. Orion lurched to his feet and peered around Draco curiously as he pointedly crossed his arms across his naked chest and leaned casually on the doorframe.

"You drunks still here then?" he queried carelessly. Amycus laughed and hailed the young Death Eater with a third bottle of Firewhiskey.

"D'ya have fun, Draccy?"

"I'm just getting started" he drawled, lounging back in his armchair, still completely unperturbed by his semi-nude state. Orion was moving behind him, but on the surface, Draco didn't even note his presence.

"Well you won't mind my havin' a ride while you're gettin' your breath back, Drac...o. Will ya?"

Concentrating on keeping his muscles relaxed at Orion's words as he leaned forward to pour himself a drink. Salazar only knew he was going to need it by the time this night was through.

"Go for your life. I personally prefer them conscious, but you may have your own partialities"

Now that he'd said it, tossed the invitation onto the ground like it was nothing, he prayed to whoever was still listening that this Orion wasn't the sort who didn't mind them unresponsive. His heart was pounding so hard at his risky move he wouldn't be surprised if the bloody werewolf noticed something was wrong. Instead, the aforementioned half-breed stared hard at Draco.

"You knocked her out?" he cried in surprise. Draco took a hit of his drink.

"No. She passed out. Different concept entirely" he added a leering smirk to his comment, the cherry on top, and half hoped it wouldn't be too much. Really, he shouldn't have bothered; Amycus chortled thickly and raised his glass to Draco, sloshing a little liqueur over the side.

"Well, here's to your debauchery young Malfoy, an' years of health to ya" he laughed. They clinked glasses and Draco finished his shot, wondering how long he'd have to wait around here before they all buggered off. That was when Orion, who was studying Draco's bookcase, called out.

"Hey, she's stirring"

Draco stood quickly, but not too quickly, and put his glass down. His head was swimming just a little from the alcohol.

"That would be my cue then gentlemen. Until morning. Nice meeting you Orion"He swaggered to the door and mockingly tugged his forelock to the other man, whose face was a thundercloud. She sat up as soon as he'd shut the door.

"You-!" she began, but he cut her off with a look and waited. Sure enough, there was the sound of Orion storming around for a bit and then growling an excuse to a steadily more drunken Amycus before the front door slammed shut. Draco silenced the door, placing his Foe Glass where he could see it. As an afterthought, he glanced at Ginny, steeled himself and placed a glamour on the edges of the door. The content of the glamour really wasn't all that hard; rape and torture he'd seen, and heard, plenty of in the last few months.

"May I speak now?" she asked as, with a shudder, he turned from the door.

"No. Unless you have something useful to say, Weasley, I would prefer it if you didn't speak at all" Draco answered her sharply, feeling tired and crabby. She glared.

"Well, that's bad luck, because until I get some damn answers out of you, Malfoy, I am going to continue being a terrible nuisance"

"...and suddenly Silencing you isn't such a bad idea after all" he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

She glared at him again and he sighed. He was beginning to wonder if Ginny Weasley had any other expression. He discarded the idea of his clothes and slung a black silk bathrobe around his shoulders before giving her a half-hearted shrug.

"Look, Weaslette-"

"Don't _call m_ e Weaslette!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, tapping his wand on his thigh as he waited for the vicious tendrils of a migraine to retreat.

"Look, _Weasley_ , you and I are in for a long night as it is with Carrow and his drinking buddies out there sitting on me like a pair of broody bloody hens, so how about, just for tonight, we pretend we don't abhor each other, yes?"

Ginny cocked her head and frowned at him thoughtfully.

"What could you be up to that's worth all this?" she wondered aloud. He smirked tiredly.

" _Me,_ plotting, Weasley? Coming from you I'm going to take that as a compliment"

A smile jerked the corners of her mouth in spite of her obvious reluctance and Draco counted his small victory. "Up for a game of chess, then?" he asked, Summoning a expensive clouded glass set from his shelves. She cocked an eyebrow.

"What, naked?"

He chose to ignore her virgin's blush at her own audacity and set about setting up the pieces, sitting on cushions before the brazier.

"You can pull your robes on if you want"

"Just my robes?" she was incredulous at his arrogance.

Draco jerked a thumb at the door. "If Carrow comes in here, you'll have to curl up somewhere and try to look defeated" he muttered offhandedly.

She snorted and one side of his lips jerked sadly in agreement; yeah, not bloody likely. Weasley's don't break that easier.. _.thank Merlin_ he added to himself as she gestured impatiently at him to face away.

"Did Harry put you up to this?" she asked as soon as he'd closed her eyes. She kept as eye on him as she quickly pulled her robes on, carefully folding her uniform up and placing it on the bed. Malfoy chuckled darkly.

"You're seriously asking me with a straight face if the honourable King Potter put me up to having you naked in my bedroom?"

She gave him the evil eye, which was entirely wasted considering his eyes were still tightly closed. The firelight turned his skin golden as he lounged on the floor, the chess set in front of him. His wand was laying by his side and for a moment she considered taking it.

"That's not what I meant" she snapped, sitting with her legs tucked up on the other side of the set. He heard her settle and opened his eyes with a lopsided sort of smirk.

"I know. White moves first"

For a moment she surveyed the board, a small smile playing her lips.

"You know my brother's the best chess player in Hogwarts, don't you?" she commented, directing her first pawn to move.

Draco answered back with his own pawn and met her eyes. "He's never played me"

The time slide by as the coals began to fade. Ginny found herself actually enjoying herself; muscles constantly tensed in anticipation for the next blow, the next move she would have to make to leap to the aid of her friends, began to relax. She laughed out loud for the first time in months; she saw a young man somehow, unbelievably, untouched by the darkness of battle around him. At least on the surface; he carefully steered the conversation away anytime it looked as though it were going to touch on any of the taboo subjects. Harry, Voldemort, the war, school at the moment and family were all wordlessly prohibited subjects. Except once, a short, quiet conversation that stuck awkwardly on their tongues like a layer of dust;

"So who's idea was the masks?"

Ginny glanced up from her cursing Bishop. Trust Malfoy to have a clergy member who swore more than the Knights. She studied him for a long moment and just as it seemed he was about to change to subject, she answered.

"It was a collective effort. We needed to hide our identities because we have no idea what they could do to our families. We needed something the outside could identify with and the magic itself came from teachers, and some students"

"Teachers?" questioned Draco in surprise. Ginny snorted and ordered the unhappy Bishop to take out his Rook.

"We go deeper and wider than your lot could ever possibly imagine, Malfoy" she said with a mocking sneer. He raised his eyebrows.

"Apparently"

Then, they talked about dragons. They argued about the ridiculousness of Astronomy and Divination; Ginny hated Divination and tolerated Astronomy, Draco had Seers in his family for as long as he could remember, not to say he thought it was a worthwhile subject to study, and had a secret passion for Astronomy, defending it with great enthusiasm.

"It's the stories behind the stars that make it so interesting. Just for a crazy example, Draco, or Draconis, is among the earliest constellations to have been defined. The ancient Egyptians identified it as Tawaret, the goddess of the northern sky, who was considered ever-vigilant because the constellation never sets...-" he moved his knight and leaned back in the cushions, looking into the flickering coals with that almost-familiar-now something shifting across his face. "-She was depicted a fierce protective goddess whose body was composed of human and lioness parts...well, hippopotamus and crocodile too, but we'll leave that out for poetic value. Eltanin is the brightest star in the system-"

He cut himself off. Ginny was laying on her stomach, propped up by pillows, and had fallen asleep on her hands. He snorted softly to himself and rolled to his feet. He looked down at her for a moment. "I call a very good friend of yours Eltanin...because she is the brightest thing in my life. Terribly corny, I know; she has that effect on me" He bent and scooped her up as he spoke and she sleepily murmured against his chest, wriggling closer. Chuckling, he lay her on his bed and pulled the covers up.

"...mm...Harry...?" she murmured, not even half awake, and curled deeper into the feather comforter. Draco rolled his eyes without any malice. After all, he'd never seen her quite like this; soft and childlike with all anger and fear and forced courage gone from her pretty features. He felt understandably privileged, and also immensely guilty. As though he had stolen something precious from Potter. He berated himself silently for his thoughts. It was thanks to his actions that she still possessed the most precious gift a girl owned to give Potter. His internal scowling always sounded so matter-of-fact. It sounded an awful lot like _her_ sometimes, that self-assured little voice in his head. With a half-smile that caught the firelight and curved like a shadow on a pillar, he dropped onto the window seat and pulled a blanket around him, his eyes on the door.


	4. Chapter 4

When Ginny awoke the next morning, she wondered hazily for a moment whether she was dead. The world was soft and deliciously warm, like sleeping on a cloud. There was no coughing or crying first years, nobody whispering or shouting out in their sleep. There wasn't the infernal dripping higher up in the roof that they couldn't get to in order to mend, and Professor McGonagall had been ordered not to do anything about it.

Poor Professor McGonagall. They'd scaled their operations right back when they found out she was often punished herself for the DA's actions. Until one afternoon Ginny was kept back in Transfiguration and the slender, elderly witch had looked her in the eye and said; 'It is difficult to get word out here, you know. Contact to the right places. Your actions, Ms Weasley, and those of your friends...consider them condoned'

So she pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes and trying to remember where she was and why she was half naked. For a moment she scanned the richly furnished room in a panic before her eyes alighted on him.He was sitting up in the window seat with his eyes closed, a furrow between his eyebrows. The previous night came rushing back and she breathed a short sigh of relief. Nothing too tragic then. Just the dangerous realisation that her worst enemy wasn't such a bad guy after all...

"Having a nice perv there, Weasley?"

She jerked, nearly unsettling her robes cautious embrace around her torso and caught her breath before glaring at him lethally. His eyes were still loosely closed, and he was watching her from the slits between his lashes, utterly alert.

"Wanker" she threw at him to cover her surprise.

He opened his eyes fully and smirked. "Bitch"

"Self-centred _pig_ "

"Bad-tempered dog"

"Ferret"

He grinned outright. "Oh, but such a handsome one"

A shot of laughter was shocked out of her at this. She'd always had it in her head that Draco Malfoy's pride was an easily wounded, and dangerous while thus, thing. She'd never entertained the thought that he had the ability to laugh at himself. Deciding he had won the argument, Draco got to his feet and stretched, his spine cracking.

"I'm going to kick our beloved professors out. I'd offer you a shower, but..."

She nodded. "I understand...look, Malfoy...someday I'm going to find out why you're doing this"

He pushed a hand through his morning ruffled hair and studied her for a moment. "You know what, Weasley? I don't doubt that for an instance. If you'll excuse me"

He flicked his wand and summoned a fresh uniform before making his way out of the room. A moment later, Ginny heard voices and the groans of awoken hangovers. She shivered to think of the kind of mood the Carrow man would be in this morning. As she reached for her underwear, the door was flung open. Ginny whirled to face the door and Amycus Carrow standing in the gap, looking at her. Her thin, creamy arms folded across her chest, her long red hair tumbling messily to her shoulders and one eye a mess of bruising. He nodded, seemingly in satisfaction and began to prowl towards her. Heart thudding in her chest, she held her ground as well as she could, eyes on the wand handle protruding from his pocket.

"Good morning Miss Weasley" he growled.

She said nothing as his stinking breath washed over her. One craggy hand shot out and he pushed the long tresses away from her face, exposing the frantic pulse in her throat and the faint bruises that Draco's fingers had left around her throat. She forced herself to give a defeated whimper, keeping her eyes on the ground, self-deprivation rising like bile from her stomach. "Let this be a lesson to yer, Weaslette. You, and your little friends, better keep yer heads down. Or next time, it'll be _me_. Don't be late to roll call now"

"You don't have a damn sickle on us, Professor, and you know it. There's no evidence" she hissed bravely. He petted her face heavily, right over the spell-bruise and she remembered just in time to wince.

"I don't need evidence, Weaslette. I can kill you an' leave your corpse for the Dementors. Best you remember that" With a final leer, Amycus swung on his heel and left the room. Long after the door had slammed shut, his words stained Ginny's mind like a burn mark; _"...next time, it'll be me"_

* * *

 

Neville and Ginny were seated in the library, their Potions books laid before them and the homework from the demented Muggle Studies class carefully forgotten to the side. Ginny pushed back a lock of hair and tapped the end of her quill on her bottom lip, frowning at her essay. While she waited for the words to come to her, she reached over the table and gave Neville's parchment a gentle tug, indicating he should let her have a look at it. He wordlessly sat up and let her pull the diagram and explanation across the table. Trying very hard not to giggle, Ginny pointed out that, if that was the extraction tube, he had his cauldron drawn backwards. With heavy sigh directed at himself and a grateful smile at Ginny, Neville took back the parchment and set about fixing his mistake. He raised his wand to tap the ink, when a cold, clear voice washed over them.

"Careful there, Short-Arse. Your face is unfortunate enough to look at thanks"

Neville and Ginny were both on their feet in a heartbeat. Around the room, people stiffened. Madam Pince stood straight, eyes wide, but said nothing. First and second years made eye contact with the older students, looking for instruction. A Death Eater guard who's name nobody knew stood to one side, arms folded, and watched.

"Nobody says you have to look at it, Malfoy" Ginny threw across the table.

Draco's head snapped to face her and he sneered. "You always were better looking with something in that mouth of yours, Weaslette. Been awhile since I've had the dubious pleasure of your company. Perhaps I should see the professors about that, yeah?"

He smirked dangerously as Ginny looked away as if she'd been slapped and Neville chuckled, dry and harsh.

"All front, Malfoy. You could be taking _Goyle_ to bed for all you know, ya sick bastard"

Draco's eyes glittered. He flicked his wand and Neville doubled over as if punched, his breath whooshing from his lungs in an audible groan.

"Neville!" cried Ginny, reaching across the table to put her hand on his shoulder. Draco, Crabbe and Theodore Nott laughed, continuing on their way to deliver a message to the Death Eater, who pointedly looked the other way as Neville caught his breath. Ginny rolled across the table to sit by Neville's side, the both of them shooting daggers at the blonde boy's head.

"Oi, you! The furniture's not Quidditch training equipment you bloody little barbarian. Fifteen points from Gryffindor"

A spell that aimed to do nothing more than briefly injure slammed into Ginny's back. She arched, gritted her teeth and said nothing, just focused on Neville. Colin Creevey's short, light steps approached and he gave Neville a reassuring pat on the back. He gave the smaller boy a nod and put his forehead on the edge of the table to groan lightly. They almost hadn't recognised Colin without his camera, but it had been snatched and smashed by Crabbe and Goyle at the start of the year.

"D-do we even have p-p-points to get taken?" he asked dryly, sitting on the other side of Neville. Ginny chuckled humourlessly.

"We'd have to get them first. And why would champions of commoners be rewarded for anything?"

Colin didn't speak as Draco and his posse moved past, muttering and laughing as they shot looks back at the three of them. When they were well out of earshot, he leaned a little closer.

"I-I had d-detention l-last night. I know th-the pass-password to S-Snape's Floo network. I-if you t-two know a way of c-contacting p-people who c-could help" he stuttered quietly.

Neville and Ginny exchanged a look. As Neville's eyes swept the room, Ginny's hand disappeared into her robes and she produced a Galleon. When Neville nodded, she tapped it twice and then murmured the day's date. As the coin in his breast pocket warmed, they knew the numbers changed on the face of those which belonged to the few still entrusted with them.

"You game for coming with us tonight, Colin?" asked Ginny, knowing what the answer would be already.

The elder Creevey was not a Gryffindor for nothing. With a nod, the small boy stood.

"T-till tonight then"

Neville gave Colin a nod as he left, his eyes on Ginny's face, sharpened in a way that would have made any Weasley wary. It was an expression that was Fred and George all over.

"What are you thinking, Gin?" he asked softly, turning back to his Potions diagram.

Ginny reached over and pulled her own work across to her, turning her head slightly so for the benefit of their avid watcher in the corner, they were discussing their homework.

"Keep an eye on the door" she murmured, still deep in thought. The Death Eater majority were all relatively anti-Neville and Ginny working in close confines, but none more so than the Carrow's. It was understandable; after all, more often than not there was some new breach of their stagnant hold on the halls of Hogwarts when Ginny and Neville sat together. "We have to get word to Kingsley and Lupin...or Dad. A break-out. Then land a detention with McGonagall, tell her" she spoke quickly, almost too fast to understand. Neville frowned for a moment, eyes on his work, as another student passed them.

"A breakout? Who?" he asked now that the other student had gone.

"Everyone. All the Muggleborn's and anyone else who's in danger"

Neville gave her a sharp sideways look. "You're not going though, are you?"

The look that she gave him in return was clear. This was Harry's home. This is where he would return when it was all over, and this was the one place he had always felt safe, always felt he belonged. Ginny was not leaving here without him by her side. One side of Neville's lips yanked tiredly in a sad satire and movement caught his eye at the door.

"Go"

Ginny did not question him. Did not even look up. She just gathered her things and swept away as if she had never been seated beside the older boy, past a disgruntled looking Amycus Carrow, and out of the library, signing her name on the register with a flick of her wrist. She cast a look back as she rounded the corner, releasing a tense build-up of held breath...before it was knocked out of her in a shocking collision with a tall, lean, male chest.

"Hey! Watch-"her voice dissolved it a muffled yelp as she was yanked to the side and had a hand slapped over her mouth. Malfoy's steel grey eyes glittered almost wildly in the light reflecting from the suit-of-armour they were hidden behind.

"Whatever you're planning, _don't_. Do you hear me, Weasley? Keep your head downfor the next month. People are going to start dying in here, Weasley, do you understand that? Don't be one of them" His words were low and harsh, spat against her like a threat, his teeth gritted around the sounds. She had never seen him look more feral, more absolutely terrifying. The tangible emotion squeezed the air out of the place they stood, his expression ignited sickly as though with the fires of Hell itself. Beside her head, the knuckles of the hand not stopping her from speaking cracked he was curling his fist so hard. Without another word he released her, shoving her out into the corridor. Adrenaline burned through her and instinct took over, lighting her as she ran with a pounding heart, garbled pieces of his furious warning roaring as they echoed in her chest.

Draco stayed, almost in exactly the same position she had left him in, one hand fallen to his side as his facial expression softened. The intensity remained, only now it was longing and fear that washed off his narrow shoulders, the water from falls crashing against worn rocks at the bottom.

"A lady of the House of Gryffindor would understand, Heir of Slytherin, if you were to tell her that your heart belongs to Godric's fair queen" intoned the suit that Draco stood beside.

The young Death Eater looked up with a quick frown and suddenly recognised the pattern on the suit's shield.

"Oh shut ya trap you" he returned tiredly, walking away with his haughty chin raised.

The suit chuckled and was still again. Upon its shield, a lion rose in a rampant salute to a wand crossing a sword above it, adorned with a crown. This suit was a Knight of the Cornish royal family, a brother of a secretive order dedicated to the protection of the royal line. When Godric Gryffindor first set out to found the School, the order travelled with him and swore an oath to safeguard the sons and daughters of the House of Gryffindor. It had stood for a hundred years and would stand for a hundred years more, but he and his brothers could not be everywhere. The reluctant boy, born of the serpents, would help them protect their pride whether he realised it or not, whether he wanted to or not, and the knights would aid him in way they could.

Draco retired early that night. He couldn't be bothered with his homework; it all seemed so useless and mundane. The entire farce was doing his head in. Snape had told him, and the others, that there would be a pack of werewolves moving in as security. Even in his flat monotone, not even the great emotionless Snape could disguise the quiver in his voice. Whether it was one of anger or of fear remained to question, but the point was that their illustrious Dark Lord was well-and-truly off the reservation if he thought for an instance that adding werewolves to the powder keg of kidnapped students was a good idea. People were going to start dying here. Draco could feel it in his bones. As if the Dementors weren't enough, their sick coldness oozing over the school like disease, there was now students marked for ransom and dungeons being turned into torture houses. He lay on his bed and wished she was with him. She was like his very own colourful Patronus, keeping the darkness and the fear and the cold faraway. It was with the thought of her smile that he drifted into light, unrestful sleep.

Then suddenly, there was a hot wandtip against the pulse of his throat, a small hand over his mouth and a phoenix mask looming in his vision. He lashed out and the DA soldier darted away. He felt the effect of a silencing spell slam into his face and he couldn't shout. As he scrabbled for his wand, which should have been in a sheath on his calf, he was grabbed by the back of the shirt and thrown to the ground. He hit the unforgiving stone and rolled, trying to get to his feet, but he wasn't fast enough. A female body tackled him and held him to the ground, fending off his grappling hands as her wand stuck painfully against his Adam's Apple.

"Stop it!" she ordered. He froze.

"Weasley?"

The masked head hesitated, then nodded and he swore, pushing her off him and standing. He froze again once he was on his feet; she was pointed her wand at him, squarely at his chest, and there was certainly no hesitation in its directness.

"What in the name of Salazar is going on?" he ground out from behind clenched teeth. His own wand was in her other hand, too far for him to grab for, he noted.

"We need to know what you meant today" Ginny spoke, her voice gruff.

" _We_?" he snapped warningly. She didn't reply and he dropped his hands, pressing his face into his palms in pure frustration. "I meant exactly what I said. People are going to start dying in here, and you need to keep your head down" he snapped.

"Will you help us?"

" _Us_?!"

"Dumbledore's Army"

He was so shocked he actually stared at her blankly for a long moment, jaw hanging uselessly. Finally, he shook himself free of the shock. "Are you- _no_!" he exclaimed, disbelieving.

"Why not?"

"Because, darling,I am not one of your moronic Gryffindors who'd jump off a cliff if you told them it was for the greater bloody good"

"You saved my life. You lied to Death Eaters-"

Draco threw his hands in the air dramatically and began to pace towards the fireplace. "You. Are. An _idiot_! Stop seeing the good in everyone, stop fooling yourselves!- " he thrust his left arm towards her, hand fisted, so the Mark was taunt and more malevolent than usual against his pale skin. "-I am a Death Eater! I swore allegiance to the Dark Lord and you're treating me like I wouldn't kill you given half a chance-"

"You've had more than half-a-chance to kill me. To rape me. And you haven't!"

They were standing much closer together now, snarling like mangy dogs into each other's faces.

"That doesn't mean a thing! For Merlin's sake...-" he dropped back and leaned on the mantle, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand. Slowly, Ginny sat back on the couch and pressed four fingers to the temples of the mask, removing it carefully as it suctioned itself from her skin. Setting it aside, she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and ran the pad of her finger over the cut on her cheek and lip.

"Shit" muttered Draco, crouching before her. She leaned back.

"Careful, Malfoy, somebody might actually think you give a shite" she snapped.

He blinked, realising he was definitely not acting like somebody who didn't give a damn what happened to her.

"I figure your face is ugly enough without adding scars to it" he drawled and tapped her lip with his wand. She flinched and he withdrew as the cuts closed, the light, shimmering spell washing over them like gravity-resistant water. Her mask lay on the couch to her side. Draco reached for it before Ginny could warn him.

"Ow, _fuck_!" The pain shot up his arm and burned in his chest like someone had thrown hot water on him. She suppressed a giggle and he looked at her, then the mask, incredulously. "Pleasant little piece of magic" he said through gritted teeth, shaking out the hand that had touched the full-face visor.

"A bonding spell we learned in Charms. Only the owner can touch it" she said dryly. Draco raised an eyebrow at the short Charms professor's blatant audacity.

"Bonding charms aren't on the curriculum"

She smirked. "Aren't they? Well. How about that" she said, bright and innocent as spring's first daisies. He rolled his eyes, thinking that he was in more trouble than he could have ever possibly imagined. "I don't understand. Why won't you-"

He pushed away from her and crossed his arms, halting her words. she sighed softly. "Can you at least think about it from my point of view. You save my neck time and time again. You care-and don't try to deny it, you do!-and not just about me! It was your Patronus I saw, wasn't it? When those first years were cornered by Dementors near Hagrid's hut"

"Stupid little gits shouldn't have even been out..." he muttered darkly and then realised what he'd said, looking up sharply. The way he searched her expression was strange. There was trepidation in his gaze.

"How'd you know it was mine?"

"It's a ferret"

He looked immediately indignant and annoyed. "It is not a bloody ferret! It's an-" he cut himself off.

Ginny cocked her head questioningly. Draco sighed, his eyes drifting closed. "I am not a hero, Weasley. And I'm not going to help you get yourself killed. Now get out and stay out. If you ever come in here again, you will be spending the night in the dungeons"

She stood and replaced her mask and left without another word, dropping his wand on the end of his bed on her way past. He listened to her replace his security measures and shook his head in secret appreciation of her flawless technique. It wasn't until five minutes after the door had slammed shut behind her that he picked up his wand from the soft bed covers and flicked it. The silvery smoke exploded from the end and a creature emerged from the wisps to gallivant around him. It landed on the floor and leaped into the air again, twisting and diving with enviable ease and grace. The otter bounded onto the end of his bed and curled there as he slid into the covers. With his hands behind his head, he watched it until he fell asleep with its bright shape imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentioned rape of a minor and aftermath next few chapters, people. Black stuff, not descriptive but referred to.

Dressed in dark pants and a dark, baggy hooded jumper that probably belonged to Neville from the size of it, Ginny counted her unsteady breaths, her back pressed tightly to the cold stone wall and waited. Beside her, Ernie McMillan and Anthony Goldstein also stood with bated breath. Suddenly, a heavy door around the corner from them swung violently open, smashing into the bricks and in the thunderous echo of it, the quick, sharp retort of feet on flagstones was barely discernable. The three DA soldiers sucked in breaths and drew closer to the wall until the feet had faded.

"Come on, let's go" said Anthony, stepping away from the wall and towards the corridor. Ginny grabbed a handful of his shirt and yanked him back.

"Wait!" she ordered, the single word a sharp, harsh hiss that commanded obedience.

Anthony lowered himself into a crouch as to see out into the hall and did as he was told. Ernie tried not to notice the comparison between the Ravenclaw at that moment and a dog being brought to its master's heel. A split second later behind them, a silvery glow lit up the end of the hall that they were waiting in. A Patronus bear stood up on its hind feet and raised a paw as if in greeting before disappearing in a swirl of shining smoke.

"Bloody good show Nev" muttered Ernie as Ginny quickly checked the corridor.

"Alright, let's go" she said.

Hooded like wraiths, the three of them hurried along the wall with Anthony out in front. They reached the door and Ginny and Ernie took up a guard position either side of the Ravenclaw as he retrieved a small vial from his pocket, his hands gloved in dragon's hide, and took a deep breath before shaking the vial and popping the cork. The vial emitted a toxic green, vaporous flame that the young man blew onto the lock and immediately corked the bottle.

 _"If you can give me a week and access to the Potions room for a night, I can make you a brew that'll get us into his quarters without a hitch. A kind of bottled glory.It'll melt right through the locks and any defence spells on the door,but it's a nasty piece of work. He didn't teach it, even to the last peace-time seventh years, so he'll never think we'd use it"_ Anthony's words from just over a week ago slid across Ginny's mind as the Ravenclaw stood and stepped back.

There was a bright flash and a tendril of acidic black smoke, then nothing. He jerked his head and pulled open the door. Without a sound, the battered rectangle of heavy oak swung out. Inside, Snape's day quarters sprawled in dark, foreboding disarray, their objective casting thick, sharp shadows across the room, like Chinese characters written across the furniture.

"Alright. You better go" said Ginny, wand in her hand as she stepped inside. She'd thank him later, when the job was done. As she cast a shield charm, Silenced an alarm and disabled Snape's Foe Glass with curving sweeps of her wand, Ernie watched in awe and jealously. Of course he knew she'd been in here before; the DA had long ago learned the spells protecting Snape's chambers, but the password on his fireplace, preventing them from accessing his uncensored Floo network, had made the room more or less obsolete to their higher purposes. It didn't mean that a Dungbomb or two hadn't found its way under his bed over the last few months.

Still, Ginny Weasley was poetry in motion. He suddenly remembered why he was still here and cast a look up and down the corridors, searching for movement. They were in the process of trying to crack the charms to recreate the Marauder's Map, but were no closer than they had been at the start of the year. It didn't help that Harry had the original with him. He looked back into the room, where Ginny was now kneeling by the fireplace, her fist enclosed around Floo powder. She licked her lips quickly.

"Madonna young warrior" she said and threw the sweat-dampened powder into the flames. Immediately, they glowed brilliantly green and she grinned in triumph. Colin had been right!

If Ginny or the DA had known anything about the roots of Lily Evans' name, they would have been curious to discover that the apparently random selection of three words were the password to Snape's Floo network. However, the symbolism of the Madonna lily and the Welsh origins for a surname meaning 'young warrior', were lost upon the young witch as she went about her work.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley" she ordered. It was a risk, they all knew it was; Ginny had agonised for weeks about contacting her brothers on an enemy line, but it was the better of the two options, the other being contacting the Burrow. The flames flared again and she took a deep breath before plunging her head into the flames. The boy's sitting area opened up before her and Lee Jordan, perched on the couch with a book, nearly fell backwards in shock.

"Ginny? Bloody-I'll go grab Fred and Ge-"

"Lee, I don't have much time"

"Fred! George! Hurry, Ginny's in the Floo!-" he whirled back to face her just as running feet echoed on the floorboards. "-Bloody Hell Ginny, what the hell is going on? The stories we've been hearing out of there-" Lee started, dark face drawn, age added by the lines of the fire's shadows and by burdens she understood now more than ever.

"Are true. There's Death Eaters in the halls, shooting off Unforgivable's left, right and centre. We have to get the Muggleborn's out before someone dies. Are you in contact with McGonagall?"

Fred bounded into the room first; he looked older than Ginny had ever seen him, but the grin on his face that blasted into the room like a shot of pure sunlight hadn't changed at all. George was right on his heels. They threw themselves down by the fireplace, identical grins of joy on their faces, which quickly faded as they took in what their little sister was telling them. Lee was standing, rocking back on his heels. Their features were pale and uncertain in the flickering greenish glow. Fred answered her, voice rough with emotion as he tried to remain calm.

"Not really, no. We can't get in to set up any kind of contact that won't be infiltrated-"

"Or intercepted. It's bloody good to see you, Gin. Mum's been worried sick" blurted George. 

She swallowed hard and nodded, her heart thudding fast and painfully as a thousand emotions warred to the surface.

"I know, Georgie. Look you three; we're trying to set up a tunnel, a passage, between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Is there anyone we can trust there?"

"Gawd yeah, Gin; there's Aberforth Dumbledore at the ruddy Hogs Head!" George exclaimed.

Ginny's jaw dropped as her mind gave a sharp and sudden buck, throwing her balance off completely. The shock jolted through her whole body as she struggled to catch up to the implications of this. Fred was saying something, but she couldn't hear him over the roaring sensation in the back of her mind. Then, before she could refocus herself, a shock of cold water hit the back of her neck and she yanked her face from the Floo with a gasp. Ernie lowered his wand as she snapped her head around to look at him. He looked decidedly green and uneasy.

"Who's Patronus is a mouse? It just ran past and stopped near my foot"

"A mouse? That's...ohmybloodyMerlin, that's Dennis Creevey!"

Panic, hot and wild as a bloodied bird slammed against the bars of Ginny's ribs. Hurried now, slammed back to the fire, let her face be sucked in by the flames. Lee was gone, but Fred and George remained; Fred standing with his hands fisted in his hair, George kneeling with pure, unabashed terror written all over his features. She'd never, ever seen them look anything close to that scared and it took her breath away from a moment. Upon seeing her, they gave wordless cries of relief and began talking at once.

"No, no, no, listen to me! Just _listen_! Please!-" they stopped talking, despite every brotherly instinct demanding that they do something to dispel the terror and panic in her voice. "-Listen to me now; the message is that Hogwarts is lost. We have to get the Muggleborns out now!You have your DA coins?"

They both looked off-balance and shocked; the blunt words smashing into them like they'd been taken to with beater's bats by Grawp. George's face twisted as he tried to keep up with Ginny's words and answered her.

"Wha-yeah. Course we do-"

Ginny cut him off, thinking of Malfoy's face as he gripped her arm and ordered her quietly not to do anything stupid, that intensity so solid around him that it had terrified her. "Good. Tell the Order they have to do something and use it to contact us. The DA has a plan, but we can't do anything without outside help. Hurry, things are going to get much, much worse in here. I've got to go, my love to everyone yeah?"

She pulled her head out and shut the connection. Ernie was standing in the doorway, wand in hand, bouncing on his heels.

"Come on!" he hissed and she threw herself to her feet, running out the door. She slammed the door shut behind her, hot on Ernie's heels, and they flew down the corridor. Coming to a corner, Ernie slammed on the brakes and grabbed her arm, already dragging her backwards. One of the Carrows was speaking and Snape was snarling something in reply. Holding their breath, Ginny and Ernie started away, light on their feet. Only then, their blood was frozen by a sound that reached them with the effect of liquid nitrogen; Colin Creevey. Screaming. Ginny stopped and pulled her wand from the pocket of her jumper. Ernie squeezed her arm, shaking his head furiously. With a forced smile, the red-head covered his hand with her own and jerked her chin up the corridor, in the opposite direction to the screams. He widened his eyes and shook his head, wand tight in his hand. With narrowed eyes, Ginny pushed him.

"Find Neville. You won't do anyone any good in the dungeons. Go!" she whispered hoarsely, backing away from him.

He followed her for a couple of paces and then stopped because she'd suddenly pointed her wand towards him. In the half-light, he didn't realise until a heartbeat later that she was offering it to him handle first. His eyes widened and she indicated Snape's voice with her head. Ernie swallowed hard and cursed under his breath, snatching her wand. The minute it left her hand, Ginny turned her back firmly and broke into a run. He took a step after her again, and then stopped as she rounded the corner and was immediately hit with a Stunning spell. Ernie McMillan's face tore almost physically with agony and guilt before he swung on his toes and sprinted in the other direction; casting only one look back to be sure he was not followed.

From her curled position on the floor, Ginny saw the heels of Ernie's shoes disappear around the corner and wished she had enough oxygen in her lungs to breathe a sigh of relief. A pointed toe caught her under the ribs and rolled her onto her back with a startled cry. She managed to lift her shoulders off the ground and caught a glimpse of the Creevey brothers and a dark-haired third year that she didn't recognise. Amycus Carrow stuck his heel under her chin and slammed her back to the floor, cracking the back of her head sharply on the stone. Her vision went black around the edges, but she fought valiantly for her consciousness. The voices and faces around her swam. The pain throbbed, a rusty knife's repetitive penetration at the base of her skull.

"...want this one...tonight...games...?"

"...fun..out of it...you made...see stars"

"...I don't mind...I want a go...what you're so attached to..."

"Like _hell_ you will!" Draco stepped between Ginny's prone body and the leering, hungry Amycus. The Professor's top lip curled. Draco used one hand to gesture to the Creevey brothers.

"Take one of them. They'll serve the same purpose. The Weasley bitch is mine, Carrow"

Amycus used the tip of his wand to slash across Draco's face, opening his forehead to a curtain of blood. Though his head bent and four fingers raised timidly to assess the damage, Draco's stance held firm.

"Mind. Your tongue. My son" Carrow hissed, his voice a smooth caramel parody of lovingness.

Draco's steel eyes flicked up stubbornly from the river of crimson and an unsettled sheen of silver-blonde hair. Amycus was already turning away, bored, and advancing on the small brothers. Ginny was only half aware when she was suddenly forced vertical again. With a gasp of pain she blinked open her eyes and found herself slouched into Malfoy's side, her elbow caught in his iron grasp. With a gritted wince, she touched the damp patch at the back of her head, trying to make sense of the scene before her. As sounds suddenly blurred back into some resemblance of meaning, she realised that Colin was screaming his brother's name and Dennis was half crouched in Amycus' hold on him, in the sobbing fits of a terrified child. Realisation, sick, heavy and painful, began to rise from the pit of her stomach. She looked at Draco to confirm that her worst nightmares were playing out before her. His face was as still as cut ice, a nerve jumping in his jaw.

"Wai-wha-no...no! No! Dennis, no! No, stop please, stop!" her own screams met Colin's, high, sharp audible despair. She had to protect him from this! Had to! It was her duty, her responsibility; the lioness roared in anguish as the jackal made off with her cub. "NO! Take me! Take me instead, plea-"

"Shut up!" Draco pulled her hard by her elbow and cracked her across the cheek with the back of his hand, cutting her desperate plea short. Blood blossomed to the surface of her flawless skin and she raised a shaking hand to the suddenly hot skin. She met his eyes, mouth hanging open and whispered brokenly, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"You can't do this. Don't do this..."

Not a flicker of emotion betrayed him as he twisted her arm cruelly behind her back and shoved her forward. "Walk" he ordered.

A sob escaped Ginny's lips before she could stop it and she turned aside, trying to hide her tears. Colin's cries had been violently silenced and she could not bring herself to look as Amycus' footsteps faded. She and Draco were silent as they walked down the hall towards his room. Silent tears poured silver down Ginny's bruised cheeks, the cold liquid a strange and unwelcome contrast to the heat of Draco's mark upon her skin. She walked with her chin up, not bothering to hide her anguish now. It was a strange phenomenon, stepping into Draco's quarters. It was crossing a threshold from reality to a sordid parallax, where she, the Blood Traitor Gryffindor, stood on equal grounds with him, the Pure-Blood Slytherin. Here, within the confines of dark walls and slightly gothic tapestries, Ginny swung at him and faced him, rage damming her tears. Draco growled at her expression and stepped forward to catch her chin, turning her face into the light to examine the blemish welling on her face with a half-bored expression that said he may as well be investigating an antique lamp. She slapped his hand away and glared furiously.

"Do you know what you've done?" she ground out.

He snorted and brushed past her, heading for the bathroom to clean the blood from his face. Ginny turned sharply, her rage bubbling over at his nonchalant brush-off. "Do you know what you've done? You...you...how could you? How could you, how could you? He's just a kid! He's just a little boy! And you handed him over to that bloody monster like he was nothing!You just handed him over!"

Flicking reddened water from his hands, Draco turned to face her, standing in the bathroom door.

"I did it to _save_ you!"

"I would have gone! I tried to go! I would take a thousand nights with Amycus Carrow rather than betray my friends.A concept obviously totally beyond you!"

Draco's hands clenched on the edge of the sink, his wand sitting next to his toothbrush where he'd put it down after healing the laceration in his forehead. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look into the torn blue eyes that gazed back at him from his own reflection. "I'm sorry" he coughed.

"Sorry? _Sorry_!? Sorry won't bring back Dennis' innocence you bastard! You cowardly bloody rodent!-"she spat the words across the room at him. However something in her phrase ignited him like a fire cracker and he whirled.

"It's your own damn fault for getting caught! When I promised Potter I'd watch out for you, I didn't realise you were a bloody martyr!-" Draco stopped his rant dead and they both went still, staring at each other, wary and shocked.

"What?" Ginny managed to gasp out.

Draco's shoulders relaxed in a defeated way and he slumped one hip against the sink, still looking at her, searching perhaps for some weakness that would allow him to get out of this situation without explanation. Ginny stepped into the doorway and folded her arms, cocking one hip and raised an eyebrow like the safety of a gun. He sighed heavily, recognising that expression immediately, and cupped his hands, splashing pure, clean water onto his face. "...oh shit" he assured his own reflection, water dripping off his razor edge cheekbones and the end of his nose.

"Why'd you promise Harry you'd look after me?" she demanded softly.

Draco looked down into the plughole as if it held the answers, before straightening and reaching for a towel.

"Eye for an eye. I made him promise to look after the girl I love" he replied shortly, slinging the fluffy Egyptian cotton around his shoulders and pushed gently past her. His wand was stuck in the back pocket of his jeans; which lead Ginny to the sudden realization that he was wearing clothes that were almost Muggle; blue jeans and a black, button-down shirt popped at the collar.

"Wouldn't _you_ be in a better position to watch out for her, not him? You're the one with all the _power_!"

"For the love of _all_ that is  _holy_ you stupid witch, I'm a _puppet_ " his retort was blunt.

Ginny watched as he rubbed the palm of his hand across the newly healed skin on his forehead.

"I can't protect her where she's heading" he murmured, in a voice as soft as down that trembled with barely restrained feelings as big as mountains and as deep as oceans. A heavy, awkward silence stacked around them as concrete as a wall. Ginny barely dared to breathe until some of the oppressive angst pouring into the atmosphere around him had abated. 

"Where the hell's your wand?" he realised all of a sudden that he was not currently suffering the effects of a well-executed Bat Bogey curse. Ginny's lips twitched in an angry snarl.

"Snape's got a bad habit of accidently snapping wands" she said softly.

Draco blinked slowly and said nothing. "Game of chess?" he asked suddenly.

Ginny flinched in surprise and their eyes met. There was, for barely a heartbeat, a flicker of understanding between them. These were extraordinary times. Dark times, but extraordinary, and if the boy within the man that was Draco Malfoy could still love totally and utterly enough to risk everything in the midst of them, then the foundations of this newness between him and her could, maybe, be made strong.

"You're on" she said, sadly. 


	6. Chapter 6

"So: Hogs Head. Aberforth Dumbledore. We have to make contact outside" said Neville, surmising for the gathered members of Dumbledore's Army five days later.

His eyes slid over them, taking in the variation in expressions. Seamus looked determined, Lavender fearful, Dean was chewing his lip, eyes dark...Dennis Creevey sat with his back to the wall, knees drawn to his chest, the food brought by Hogwarts house elves untouched by his side. Neville drew in a ragged breath and sat down at one of the camp chairs tiredly. Luna sat next to him with the scent of Dirigible Plums and loamy earth. They exchanged a look and as one returned their gazes to the surrounding young fighters. Ernie was asleep in one of the hammocks; the Patil twins were cleaning up the bloody bandages they'd used to clean up his cursed wounds. There was another who would have to stay in the Room until further notice; he was what they had come to tag, with bleak humour, 'on the menu' for the Death Eater minority stalking the school grounds.

There were currently nine permanent residents of the Room; six Muggleborns, Ernie and the Creevey brothers. When Amycus had sent for the small boy for a second time, they'd wasted no time in moving both the brothers in here under the cover of their dear friend, night. Things were getting worse, just as Draco had predicted. On the far wall were photographs, tokens or names. Eighteen in all. Three were first years, marked with a Gryffindor hair ribbon, a teddy from her bed and a revered poster of the Chudley Cannons. Stark reminders of the young innocents never to be seen again.

"I been meanin' to ask; where's Ginny?" Seamus asked, handing Neville a glass of water.

He took it gratefully and scuffed his foot on the floor.

"Detention" he said quietly, and saw Dean Thomas' face scar from the corner of his eye.

"They're getting worse" said Seamus, rubbing his arm unthinkingly where a werewolf had broken it in a detention a week ago; it was a sign of the times that he would have taken the broken bones a million times rather than be turned over completely to the new guards of Hogwarts.

"D'ya think Professor Lupin knows anything about the wolves?" somebody asked; a small, hallowed boy of about twelve, one of the Muggleborn's being hidden here permanently. Seamus put his arm around the smaller boy's shoulder.

"Rest assured Duncan, if Prof Lupin knows anything, he's working to run the toothy bastards outta here" he said with an almost-real smile.

The younger years knew the names of the champions of the Order like children knew the names of superheroes. They'd been told story after story, mostly by Luna in her dreamy, charming way that calmed their terror better than any salve. Merlin only knew why; she could be downright scary in her honesty. On nights when the Death Eaters had gone hunting for Muggleborns to torture and there'd been almost a hundred frightened junior years crammed in here, Luna had sat in their midst and spun wonderful, brilliant legends; of the brave, the courageous, the brilliant men and women of the Order of the Phoenix. There was the pariah Remus Lupin, the fun-loving deviants Fred and George, Nymphadora Tonks for whom there was no suitable adjective, the crazed antihero Mad-Eye Moody, the strong Kingsley Shacklebolt, the kindly Molly Weasley and the absent minded Arthur. Then, of course, there were the elite; Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore and the Golden Trio. Some of these tiny eleven-year-olds had started saying it like a prayer; the Golden Trio. Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and the messiah Harry James Potter, with whom all hope rested. These legends kept the embers burning long after the flames had been doused in sand. It was enough.

Neville smiled and nodded when Duncan looked at him for confirmation. Harry had never said anything about this part, perhaps because he'd only ever experienced it once in the bar of the Hogs Head; the pressure of those wide, scared eyes looking at you, pleading for answers. Luna, Neville, Ginny, those select few who had been at the Department of Mysteries, started out when Headmaster Snape first stood before the hoards of students at the start of the year as a unit of free-minded rebels bent on raising hell for the new regime. Then suddenly, it was no longer about them. The days of Dungbombs, portable swamps, fireworks in the middle of examinations and Fanged Frisbees in the corridors disappeared. Days darkened and blood ran as freely in the halls as laughter once had. They'd been forced to become soldiers and, to a far greater extent, surrogate mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters and leaders of an exponential scale. Where there was no way out, no way in, where they didn't know who they could trust and they themselves were fighting to keep their heads above the water, they had the lives of a hundred others to look out for.

"So how are we going to get a tunnel through to the Hogs Head?" Anthony Goldstein, Ravenclaw, asked, approaching the table.

"Ask the Room. But first, we have to get down there ourselves, somehow"

"How?"

"Why?"

Seamus, always champing at the bit for action, and the sharply intelligent Anthony, showed their different approaches in single syllables. Neville scratched a scab forming on his jaw.

" _How_ , is a good question... _why..._ what happens if we ask for this tunnel, we go through it and we find a nest of Death Eaters who tear us into pretty little chunks, then come roaring through here and turn it into a slaughterhouse" his words were blunt.

Seamus, with a sheepish touch of his nose, retreated. Suddenly the curtain over the door shimmered and everyone tensed. Wands were drawn. Ginny pushed past the short tunnel of heavy fabric and held her hands by her sides until everyone lowered their wands.

"Ginny's favourite colour?" Neville asked, approaching. His wand was still in his hand.

"Don't have one. If I did, it would probably be green" she said blankly, an arm around her middle.

Neville caught her arm as she stumbled. Yes, green like Harry's eyes when the Autumn sun hit them and they shone brightly with a smile.

"You look like hell" he said frankly, bending his knees so she could lean on him until he gently deposited her in a nearby chair, quickly vacated by another youngster.

"I swear they're popping out of the ground like rabbits" he muttered, more to himself that to Ginny, as the little blonde bounded off. She gave a short, pained chortle and groaned as she stretched her legs.

"Parvati!" Neville called, crouching by her side. Ginny waved it off.

"Don't worry. It's okay. Had worse"

Her friend looked entirely unconvinced. Anthony appeared with a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"The elves say lockdown's about twenty minutes away-" he said to Neville and then handed the goblet to Ginny. "-Our illustrious leader here was just telling us about the grand plan for our very own Underground" he said.

"Underground?" asked Ginny, taking a sip. Anthony shrugged.

"American thing. So I guess we have to talk someone with Hogsmeade privileges around then, huh?"

Neville rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Which is about as likely as You-Know-Who suddenly announcing a deep and passionate yearning to become a Squib" he said dully, startling a laugh from Seamus and Anthony. Ginny traced the edge of the goblet, eyes darkened in a way they hadn't seen before.

"Who says they have to be on our side-" she looked up at them. Her eyes were flat and emotionless. "-Everyone with Hogsmeade privileges is either a Slytherin, an informant, Pureblood and too scared to jump either way, or a combination"

Looks were exchanged.

"Ginny, what are ye saying?" Seamus asked warily. Neville folded his arms as she looked at him. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

"No! Ginny, what-no!"

She threw her goblet to the ground and jumped up, shocking the room to silence.

"Oh don't stand there and tell me it didn't cross your mind, Neville! It would be as good as Polyjuice without having to break into the Potions store again. There's a Hogsmeade weekend next week Neville! Next week we could know if it's _safe_! Another week and we could be getting people out! Saving lives! Saving people instead of always being one bloody step behind the gravestones! Nobody else has to die Neville and all it would take is-"

"Is becoming like _them_ " he snarled. She silenced. He stepped closer. "What you are suggesting would make us no bloody different than them. You want to drag Dumbledore's name through the mud? You want to spit on everything Harry taught us?-"

"Harry's. No. Saint!" the words ripped from her throat in a ragged hiss that cut across the hearts of all of them. She didn't shout, but she didn't have to. It was silent in the Room. Neville looked down, eyes closed against the blow, before looking back at her. Louder now, her eyes flashing with fury, she struck blow after blow. "He used the Cruciatis. He used it on Lestrange. And you love him for it, Neville-no, no, _don't_! Don't look at me like that, you know you do! Because you couldn't and he did! What's one Unforgiveable against the lives of everyone here, Neville? An Imperious, one of the Slytherins who already make our lives hell and we're done. We're through with this place. This hell"

"It may be hell, but it's _our_ hell" Neville said, softly, forcefully, stopping her dead. He lifted his head and looked around. The Room was still; there were some wide eyes among them who looked like they'd just be told Santa Claus was a cannibal. He sighed and looked at her.

There were tears in her eyes, agony across her tense muscles. It was getting to her and that shook him to the core. He knew it was getting to all of them, but Ginny had always appeared one step above it. She was laughing in the face of terror, winking cheekily at horror, pulling two fingers to dread and evil like she'd rolled her eyes at Ron when he'd argued with Harry during a conversation long ago about tattoos of Pygmy Puffs and Hungarian Horntails.

"This is _ours_ , Ginny. This is what we're fighting for-" he spread his arms to include everyone standing around them, to include something far greater than what could be seen with the naked eye. "-What are we if we forget that? We're them behind phoenixes instead of skulls! Harry is the closest thing we've got"

A moments quiet, and Anthony cleared his throat, awakening them both from their stare-off. Ginny seemed to shake herself.

"Right everyone, lockdown protocol. Ravenclaw's, with Anthony; there's about three or four groups worth, sort it. Hufflepuff's, with Ern..." she trailed off.

"Justin'll take 'em" said the Hufflepuff boy gruffly as he sat up, hair ruffled and eyes bloodshot, in the hammock.

Ginny nodded and the brown-haired Justin Finch-Fletchley stood, beginning to gather tight-faced other students to him.

"Gryffindor's, with Neville-" she looked at him. "I'm going to patrol" she said stiffly.

He shook his head like a father with an obnoxious child. "Like hell you are, Gin. You're going to bed. C'mon" He held out an arm. For a moment, Ginny stared at him, her shoulder shaking. A tear made it down her cheek and she viciously shoved it away. Then, with a sigh, Neville took a step towards her and put an arm around her shoulder. Ginny leaned her head against his chest and breathed slowly. The rest of the DA let them be.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco was striding to the Great Hall when he heard the raucous laughter, like the foreboding caw of a flock of crows. In the cold, deep water in which he was being forced to tread, he found that instinct served you best. So it was to his most primitive intuitions that he gave himself over to as he immediately drew aside. Gathering his school robes to him, he drew his hood over his signature blonde hair and disappeared into shadow. Snape and Alecto swept by, trailed by Amycus and Orion. Draco repressed a snarl at the man's continual reappearance. The group was moving so swiftly that he only caught a few words of their discussion, tossed back to him on their wake.

"-Weasley...Corner-"

"-first years-"

"-screaming-"

"-what a mess-"'

It was enough to make him realise that a decision needed to be made, and fast. Potter's face, snarling, green eyes livid, hovered in the front of his mind. Sure, the honourable bloody Chosen One would never intentionally let _her_ , Draco's girl, get hurt, but he'd be sure to make Draco's life hell for letting anything happen to the precious Ginny Weasley...and, on a different note, he'd never take Draco at his word again, which could be detrimental to future dealings with the scar-headed twit. Stepping from his clothing of darkness, Draco looked down the hall where the Death Eater's had disappeared, and then let his head turn to the left; deep into the blackness at this castle's heart. He could either keep walking and pretend he had neither seen nor heard anything. It wasn't as though Weasley would purposefully go out of her way to inform Harry of his breaking their oath if she didn't even know he was aware of her incarceration. Dammit, she wasn't even aware they had made an oath to one another! However, having come to this conclusion, Draco had a disturbing realization.

He _wanted_ to make sure the fiery, talented witch was alright. He wanted to challenge her to a game of chess again, and see her crack a smile at his jokes with the intimate knowledge of just how much she hated him hovering at the back of both their minds. He did not want to see her cowering before Snape, or any Death Eater, bleeding or not. And these feelings, as previously concluded, did not stem from a desire to protect his beloved; Potter would never sink so low as to let her get hurt just because Draco had let Ginny suffer. It was simply because he liked her. He admired her pluck and her special brand of intelligence, yet not in any sense in the same way that he admired his lover's. Draco cursed, smothering the urge to stamp his foot like a spoilt child.

He was not supposed to give a damn about the Weaslette's welfare, beyond what it took to hold up his end of the deal. He was in too deep. Again. What is it with these bloody Gryffindor's that has that effect on me? Swearing softly out loud now, Draco swung on his heel and stalked, eyes glittering like serpents scales in silver moonlight, down into the dank cells. At the top of the stairs leading down into the dungeons, he paused. There was no sound but the quiet clink of condensation dripping from the roof to floor at first. Then the oppressive silence was broken by a low groan.

"Lumos" he muttered, more for the comfort of spoken word than for any real need to utter the spell aloud. As pure whiteness spilled over, piercing the darkness, movement caught his eye in the first cell. A body pressed to the bars, squinting up at the heavenly glow at the top of the stairs.

"Neville? Mate, you gotta check Gin! They messed her up bad, and she won't bloody answer me! Nev, mate?"

Although he found it interesting, this knowledge that Dumbledore's Army had gotten access to the dungeons, deep in Slytherin territory, and Michael Corner immediately thought it was Neville Longbottom coming to his rescue, Draco would delve deeper into that musing later. For now he bounded down, throwing his wand from hand to hand as he scanned desperately for Ginny.

"Corner! Where is she?"Corner had drawn back upon recognising Draco, eyes slitted and dangerous. He said nothing, just glared. "Corner, you twat, I'm trying to help! Now tell me, where is Weasley?"

"The hell you are Malfoy! You back-stabbing bastard! You're branded!"

Frustrated, Draco rattled the bars and knew he was going to pay dearly for these words; "Listen to me! I'm with you, alright? I am with-Potter's got me looking out for her, okay? Bloody hell, _Potter_ has me in his gang of merry-bloody-men looking out for his girl, do you understand you daft git?"

Corner just continued to glare at him through swollen eyes. Draco raised his wand higher and scrutinised the Gryffindor boy properly for the first time. "Salazar's bloody fangs...what did you _do_?" the words were out before he had a chance to regret them. Michael snarled.

"They were gunna Crucio firs' years again Malfoy...I knew she'd back me up-" his lips tugged in a grim rendition of a smile. "-They didn't even ask. Just saw her. Had her pinned for being the ringleader, all the shit she does with the DA"

"Where is she?"

For a blank moment, Corner just studied him, then settled back against the wall, one arm resting across his broken ribs, and jerked his head with a wince at the far wall. Draco turned, apprehensive. Oh yeah. Potter was gunna _end_ him. Draco gritted his teeth, hurrying to the pale, half-naked figure draped in chains against the black, damp stone. Her shoulders, side, belly and legs glowed in the murky darkness, streaked with black and red. It was hard to tell by wandlight, her head slumped like that, where blood began and long, red tresses ended. A watery sound that may have been a groan escaped her bloodied lips as, gently as possible, Draco wrapped one arm around her too-slender waist and unlocked the chains. They did not give under _Alohamora_ but he wasn't a Malfoy for nothing. The locks snapped after a few moments, crumbling under his spells, and Ginny collapsed in on herself like a saturated ragdoll. He took her weight, but there wasn't much of it. He knew that it was commonplace to cut off food supply to those suspected of terrorist activities, and he also knew that Ginny would give food from her own plate to those who'd been cut off themselves. A combination of the two explained her distinct lack of weight. She gasped in agony. It suddenly became a very real possibility that they had broken her legs.

"Fuck! Oi, Weasley, wake up. Come Ginny, come on...-" he laid her softly on the hard ground and sent a blaze of blue flame up beside him, casting her in ghastly smoky blue, deepening the bruises and blood that crossed her body. Sweeping her hair from her face, Draco listened to her breath, flicking his wand at her legs with a mumbled incantation. Then held her down as she thrashed, the snapped bone cracking back into place. "-Sorry, sorry, shit, Ginny...come on, you're gunna be okay..." Beneath the cool tip of his wand, her tortured body began to mend, and with a choked groan, her eyes fluttered in consciousness. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on his heels.

"Bloody hell" he muttered, shaking his head.

"Thought...you'd be glad...to get rid of me" she groaned. He snorted, extinguishing the firelight with an odd twist of his chest, then scooping her into his arms. It was a sign of just how weak she was that there was only a soft grunt of protest; and Draco couldn't be sure if that was simply because she was still in intense pain.

"Not bloody likely, oh mighty Gryffindor princess. You make keeping you out of trouble so bleedin' easy" his words dripped with sarcasm, but apparently Ginny was too unstable to register the lowest form of wit.

"M not...'Mione's...princess...not me..." she corrected him groggily. Draco's eyes grew faraway, a clouded grey like a winter storm sky.

"Oh, no, darling. They're calling her the Queen now. Godric's Kings and Queen; the Golden Trio..." Draco trailed off as he paused at Corner's cell and peered in. "Oi, Corner. I take it Longbottom's coming down to get you, is he?"

Michael cracked one bloody eyelid to take in the picture of Draco with Ginny slumped in his arms. "Longbottom who?" he drawled derisively.

"Well, tell him where he can find her. See you later then" Draco drawled in reply, hefting Ginny into a more comfortable position and starting up the stairs. His mind was whirling as he made his way through the corridors. The sun was setting to the west, casting long orange shadows on the flagstones. There were two secrets passages which would take him to his corridor, but they would both involve crossing frequently used paths. Maybe if he could get her to McGonagall; even if she immediately leapt to the conclusion that he was to blame for this atrocity...

He froze and looked down at Ginny's half naked form. Merlin, Salazar and the Founders; if they had taken her, they would know he had never touched her...and his cover would be blown wide open. Far more worrying, if Ginny had been raped, he had failed. And a Malfoy, even a secretly disgraced Malfoy, did not take failure kindly. She murmured incomprehensibly and he hefted her body a little higher, sick to his stomach. Moving with more haste now, he put his back to the next corner and checked for inhabitants. Nobody; on his toes now, he moved as fast as he could without jogging her fragile form down the wide walkway, close to the walkway, ears and eyes hypersensitive as his blood pounded under his skin. The blur that suddenly blocked his path took him by surprise and he shifted fast. He couldn't get to his wand, and his arms were full of Ginny.

"Greetings, Heir of Slytherin" echoed the deep, metallic tones of the suit of armour that had swung at ninety degrees to stand in Draco's path.

"What in the...-" he looked at the armour's shield and then up at the empty visor. "-...how in the name of Merlin did you...-"

"There are many secrets in these castle walls, Heir of Slytherin. Not even the Founders themselves knew them all. This is one secret which I will share with you, for we do not choose lightly whom to bestow these secrets upon"

Behind the suit, where it had stepped away from the wall, was a narrow arch of darkness and a gust of air blowing in from it. Draco looked at the suit, and then into the tunnel.

"Will this take me...?"

"To the tapestry across the hall from your chambers, sir"

Draco took one look at Ginny's pale face and nodded. He didn't really have a choice. "Thank-you...but, why?"

"My order protects Godric's children and he who loves of lion's den will lay down his life to protect it. This you know, for this is what you feel. You are a knight without an order of yet, sir. Go in good faith, Heir of Slytherin"

Ignoring the irony, Draco stepped into the shadows. He swore he heard the suit chortle as it swung closed. Torches along the tunnel's earthen walls illuminated, shining the gentle slope and curving corners until he came to the backside of the tapestry he had never taken the time to notice. The moment he pushed the corner of the wall-hanging with his shoulder, peering out, and the torches went out. He blinked to allow his eyes to adjust. He snuck out into the empty corridor and across the hall, stepping inside his chambers without further resistance. He laid Ginny gently on the couch and threw a blanket over her. In the light, he saw the dirt and grit that layered the blood and realised the damp state of the rags she was clad in. She groaned softly and tried to come into some form of alertness, her eyelids struggling heavily.

"Ginny, take it easy" he murmured, drying her damp, torn clothes with a wave of his wand tip. His mind was whirling, making him feel incredibly sick. Turning to the fireplace, he called for the one elf he trusted inexplicably and moment later, Dobby appeared. His huge eyes widened even more as he took in the bloodied form of the youngest Weasley and he furiously turned to his old master.

"You is bad boy! Look at what you has done to Miss Weasley! Friend of Harry Potter! Dobby wishes very, very much that he could-"

"Dobby I-"

"-when Harry Potter hears what nasty Malfoy boy has done-"

"I didn't-"

"-Dobby should not have ever helped the nasty Malfoy-"

"Dobby you daft _git_ it wasn't bloody me! Alright? Just shut up a minute! It wasn't bloodyme! It was the Carrows. And I need to help her! Malfoy is helping Harry Potter!"

Dobby cocked his head, apparently unimpressed and glanced sideways at Ginny again. She murmured weakly. Draco was standing with his hands before him, waiting impatiently for the house elf's next move.

"Is you sure?"

It took every ounce of Draco's remarkable diplomatic (read 'ass-kissing' said a voice that sounded awfully like Ron Weasley) skills not to roll his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure. I need to make up a couple of potions to help her. I can't take her to Madam Pomfrey; silly bird doesn't even realise there's listening spells all over the wing. I can't take her to Professor McGonagall because it would put her in danger and Snape...wouldn't understand. So you're the only one who can help me Dobby. Please. For Harry Potter"

"Dobby is always willing to help Harry Potter. Dobby wills be right back"

With a pop, the bright-eyed, big-eared house elf disappeared and Draco breathed a sigh of relief, thanking his lucky stars that Potter had such a damn wide righteous streak and just _had_ to free the damn elf back in second year. Turning back to the couch's burden he brushed a crimson lock away from her face and studied her wounds with a twist of his stomach. First things first; he had to get her some proper clothes before he saw something that she would no doubt scratch his eyes out for. He went to his room and found a pair of clean boxers and a black jumper. Returning, he found her pushing herself up against the arm of the couch, gasping with the pain. There was a feral, wide-eyed look in her eyes, the terrible blankness of someone who does not know where they are.

"Whoa, hey, Ginny, take it easy. Take it easy. You're safe" He crouched, putting the clothes to one side and catching her face in his hands. For a moment she clawed at him weakly, not even managing to break the skin, and then leaned back, staring at him. "Ginny...?" he led uneasily. One of her bloody hands rested on his wrist as she stared blankly at him. Her mouth opened silently, only a warbled croak making it out. She snapped her jaw closed again, looking shocked. "It's alright, you're just hurt. Here, I'll get you a drink. You're safe though, alright?"

She nodded weakly and pushed herself back into the corner, drawing her legs close. Biting his lip, Draco fetched a goblet and handed it to her, watching carefully as she drank deeply; too much so. As she spluttered he took the goblet and rubbed her back clumsily, sitting down beside her as she caught her breath. Wrapping her arms around her ribs, she made a feeble sobbing sound and pushed her face against her knees. He would have much preferred her spitting rage and trying to claw his eyes out. Clearing his throat, he stood, both hands on the goblet and looked at the floor. She didn't look up. Luckily for him, Dobby chose that moment to appear, staggering under the weight of a tray loaded with food and shallow dishes and delicate bottles of potions ingredients.

"About time" Draco snapped automatically, snatching the tray and setting it on the low table. Dobby, for his part, simply ignored the nasty Malfoy boy, and turned his attention to the red-haired, friend-of-Harry Potter girl.

"Hullo miss, Dobby has brought food and things for miss to help her feel better"

Ginny managed a meagre smile. "Thanks Dobby" she said hoarsely.

The little elf bobbed his head, pleased. "Dobby has also brought missus her wand from Severus Snape" he announced importantly as he produced the fine, dark length of wood. She relaxed a little as she took it thankfully. "Will you be needing anything else, missus?" Ginny was quiet for a time, looking at the wide-eyed little creature.

Draco was about to say something when she spoke, quietly. "Do you think you could find Harry? Take him a message?"

Draco, leaning back at the implications of this and wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself, snapped his head to look at the elf. But his large, pointed ears were drooping. "Oh, miss. Dobby is much sorry for this. Dobby feels useless. He is a bad elf, bad elf-"

"Dobby, don't hurt yourself. I forbid it" Draco said immediately, recognising the build-up to a hysterical fit from the little creature. The words felt foreign on his tongue, and it was a tossup whether someone elf-civil-rights inclined would have been touched or irritated. Turning glaring eyes upon him, Dobby mustered what could have very well, with some imagination, been called a sneer and puffed out his narrow chest.

"Dobby is a free elf, nasty Malfoy boy! He does not have power to forbid Dobby anything! If Dobby feels he must be punished for being unable to find Harry Potter for his friends then Dobby with punish himself!"

Ginny caught Dobby's indignant, bony hand with a wince and smiled, patting it as Draco resting his face in his hand and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "It's alright Dobby. Please don't hurt yourself. Harry wouldn't like it, would he? He'd forbid you from doing it"

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Harry Potter is mostest kind to Dobby and to all house elves! He is a champion of good people and a great wizard is Harry Potter-"

"Dobby, that's enough" Draco cut the elf's rant off sharply, watching Ginny tear up. Damn creature was going to leave him in an uncomfortable spot. Again. He held his hands in surrender when Dobby glared at him again and gathered the potions ingredients with getting away in mind. Flicking his eyes over the labels, he found one salve for bruising and another for healing cuts. He left them on the tray with the food and half straightened, catching Ginny's eye over Dobby's animated head.

"Are your ribs broken?"

One of her hands was resting on Dobby's shoulder, as if staying him. Draco tuned out the continuous sound of the loyal creatures rant and kept his eyes on her. She nodded and he made a face. "I can make some Skell-O-Grow, but it won't be all that strong without maturation" he told her.

She opened her mouth to comment, but Dobby interrupted. Draco glared. Damn elf! "Dobby will fetch, Dobby will fetch!" and was gone with a pop before either of them could comment.

He tapped his foot, his face beginning to burn as he contemplated the wording of this question. As much as a part of him screamed that ignorancewasblissthe need to know was far stronger. He needed to know if he had failed his oath.

"Look, Weasley, I hate to ask but-" It was, of course, at that moment, that Dobby reappeared with a bottle of Skell-O-Grow almost as large as he was. Draco plucked it from his scrawny arms before he collapsed. "Did Madam Pomfrey see you take this?" he demanded. Dobby twitched his abnormally large nose. "I'll take that as a no-" Draco muttered and then spoke to Ginny. "-Later then. Ah, there's clothes there. They're, ah, all I could find. To fit you"

She looked at them and nodded. Draco rubbed his cheek.

"Alright then. I'll be, in the next room, if you, ah, if you need, anything...right. Ah..." he moved off quickly before he could say anything stupid.

Twenty-minutes later, his eyes were streaming from the Pepper-Up Potion and his neck was aching as the stress gathered there. There was a soft knock on his door and he turned from his bench as Ginny stuck her head inside. Her hair was wet and braided back from her face, throwing the cuts on her face and sausage-shaped bruises on her neck into stark relief.

"Hi" she said.

"Hi" he said in return.

Silence. Ginny twisted her fingers nervously. Draco moistened his lips.

"Ah, Ginny...urm...you, were beaten...quite badly and I, I just need to, know. Um. If you were...?"

No comprehension. He pushed a hand through his hair. "Did they...you, um, were you, uh..."

"Rape? No. No...um-"

"Oh. Right, okay, good. Um..." Their words overlapped and he spoke over her, relieved. Ginny forced a sort-of grimace.

"Snape, actually. He...surprisingly" she finished lamely.

Draco nodded, adding the fact to the growing list of his Headmasters strange quirks. More silence. Only this time, Ginny broke it, her voice stronger than it had been in a while.

"I'm pretty sick of playing games, Malfoy. This is really going too far. Your Patronus is an _otter_ "

Draco sighed heavily. He had wondered how much she would think about that particular little puzzle. She had, judging by her expression, disregarded any connection between the similarities in his Patronus to that of someone she knew very well.

"I guess it's time then" he said quietly, more to himself than to her.

Ginny stood straighter, watching suspiciously as he walked across to his bedroom and knelt beside his bed as though praying. She didn't hear the incantation he muttered as he tapped a flagstone with his wand. With a raised eyebrow, she continued to gaze as the flagstone lifted from the ground. She flexed her fingers around her wand; a silent comfort to herself. He grabbed the square of hefty grey stone and tugged it aside. Then, reaching down below the floor, he withdrew a chest. It was about a foot deep and a couple long with dark wood panelling and a metal detailing. Curious now, she drew closer. There was no keyhole, no padlock. The black iron vines snaked the whole way around it, sealing the seam tightly. Draco shifted from a crouch to sit on his backside, one leg stretched out, the other tucked in. He felt Ginny's eyes on him as he reached down to his shoe and retrieved a short, silver knife from a sheath on his ankle. She drew a quick breath.

"Godric...-" he looked up at her gasp- "It's a blood lock...I thought..."

"Correctly. It's very, very illegal and very, very Dark" he concluded for her, raising the knife and slashing his fingertip cleanly. They both watched in morbid fascination as the dark ruby drops bloomed on his pale skin. "Rather fitting for the youngest Death Eater since the First Wizarding War...wouldn't you agree?" he asked rhetorically and distractedly, his eyes fixed blankly upon the bubble of heavy crimson crowning the pale digit.

Torn between revulsion and absorption Ginny watched as the drops dove off his fingertip and splashed onto the dark metal. With a sharp crack, the vines shifted, retreating until the top of the chest popped open. There was a strange, caught look on Draco's face. Like a cornered stag, but wilder and softer at once. A wolf cub perhaps or a wounded wildcat. He sucked the blood off his fingertip, took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself, and twisted the chest so that it now faced her.

"I'm warning you now that if you breathe a word this, to hell with Potter, I will end you. There are lives at stake" he told her harshly.

"What are you-" her words dissolved into a strangled gasp.

The box was a dismantled shrine; letters, photos both magical and Muggle Polaroids, drawings, notes, a crimson ribbon, a leather-bound book, an eagle owl feather quill and... With shaking fingers, Ginny reached for the curl of familiar brown hair, held together with a green silk band, and held it in her hand, eyes closed as she tried to absorb this revelation.

"Ho-wh-when-" she opened her eyes and stared at him. "You're in love with Hermione Granger?"


	8. Chapter 8

Her voice had risen to a hysterical cry, and he winced as it rebounded noisily from the high rafters, bouncing around the stone room and reverberating like a drum.

 _'Granger?-Granger?-Granger?-Granger?'_ the echoes answered back fiercely.

Ginny didn't seem to notice. She just continued to stare, slack-jawed at him, as he rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered to collapse on the window seat. Suddenly appearing much, much older, he dragged a hand through his hair, running it down his tight neck, and sighed heavily with a self-deprecating snort.

"Believe it or not, the feeling is mutual" his voice was sardonic.

Without even really wanting it to, her eyes fell back to the chest before her. Still trembling, she began slowly to empty it, searching for answers, searching desperately for some _hint_ of her reality in this mess. But with every image, every word she read, everything that fell before her frantic gaze only secured her more tightly in the knowledge that herreality wasn't real at all. The reality where there was specified lines between good and evil, and Draco Malfoy was most definitely the latter, where Hermione Jean Granger, the first and truest girlfriend Ginny Weasley had ever possessed, indisputably detested the very ground that he walked upon, was in fact not a reality at all. It was an illusion that she had been shuttered behind, while beyond it a high stakes game of Russian Roulette was being played. A gun forged of passion and bullets of circumstance; something that began as hate, evolved into lust before transforming suddenly and inescapably to love, before either player could quite do anything about it. At the time, she didn't realise she was doing it, but by the time the shadows had lengthened in the room and Ginny's concentration was finally broken, she was surrounded by a organised chaos of the contents of Draco's heart. That, Ginny realised, cracked her neck and wincing as she returned blood flow to her legs, was exactly what this was. It wasn't just a chest; this was the most secret, hidden, softest, protected, feared and exalted part of the man that was Draco Malfoy. Everything was pushed in here, protected, hidden from the world; out of sight and out of his mind in the case it was penetrated.

She started with the pictures; there were some here that didn't move, that she recognised as being snapped by Hermione's Polaroid camera, a birthday from her parents in second or third year. It had taken her a month to charm it so it worked in Hogwarts. Here was a handful of those unnaturally still images, taken in the dark of a library corner. A dusky shot of Hermione, one hand cupping her cheek as she frowned thoughtfully, the blur of a quill in her other hand. She looked up, blushing at the camera, smiling shyly as though coerced. Glanced at him from under her long, dark lashes, head cocked in that very Hermione-ish _I-know-I'm-right-but-it's-cute-you're-trying_ way. Tried to focus on her work, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear. Obviously not succeeding, because in the next snapshot, that a very talented Draco managed to snap one-handed while catching her chin and kissing her for all she was worth with the other, she was smiling against his lips, very distracted. It took Ginny a long time to move on from that single image. Was it wrong that she was physically shocked to see Hermione so happy? Her joy glowed from the still image, through her smile and her eyes and the relaxation in her shoulders. Was it wrong to think that the boy caught forever in this moment was nothing like the Malfoy she knew? He was playful and fun and smitten, not caring for a moment that she was Gryffindor and he was Slytherin, that he was Pureblooded and she of the dirty blood, and their lips were pressed tightly together, moulding their smiles as one. The other photographs were mostly magical; there was a collection obviously taken on the same brilliant summer afternoon somewhere where it was glaringly bright and green and the light made a halo appear around Draco's pale skin. He lay back against the grass, one eyebrow raised mockingly. Another showed him sitting up, tearing grass in his fingers, grinning and looking up at something she'd just said, a rare unguarded moment. Grinning! Ginny could honestly say that in the six years she'd know him, she'd never, ever so much as heard of Draco grinning quite like that; it was light and honest and a little crooked, but it was astoundingly beautiful. Then they were laying together, Hermione's head on his chest, her long hair haloed around her face, holding the camera above her head to capture them both, spread-eagled on the grass, shirts and ties and robes in wondrous disarray. Draco had one hand behind his head, cradling his skull, and a blade of grass stuck between his teeth. His other hand rested on her flat belly. He gave the camera a cheeky wink, then tickled her. They were sun-soaked, casual, fun-loving humour and long, lazy warm days. Her heart ached to think of moments, stolen just like these, with Harry, curled up together so tightly in the watery autumn sun of their time together that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. She wished they'd had a camera to capture those moments like Draco and Hermione had.

"Oh" the breath escaped from her body and wrapped around the sound, tugging it from her mouth. Draco looked up at her blush and joined with one of his own.

"Bugger...right, you tell a soul I've got that..." he muttered.

Hermione, a recent shot, curled up in white sheets, eyes closed, breathing gentle, her head lolled in the cradle of her hands so the round strawberry bruises were like thumb prints against the smooth, pale expanse of her neck. The sheets were tangled around her bare legs, draping luxuriously over her behind, while most of her front was covered by the corner of blanket that she had pulled up to her chin. She looked peaceful and sated, innocent, striking and sexy at once. Like a debauched angel, fallen into the arms of the Devil himself and not minding at all. She quickly put that one down and tried to continue looking through the pictures. But Draco was standing over her, hovering, and her concentration was broken. So she flicked quickly through images of the lake, of dark corners and dusty, unfeatured passages, of late nights at the Astronomy Tower and liaisons in the back stacks of the library. She found pictures of...was that _Paris_? Hermione pretending to smoke, spread out on an antique double bed, and an artistic shot of pale hands entwined against dark robes, and smiles, and sadness and passion and laughter and hurt and fear and joy.

"Bloody hell" she said finally. Draco snorted and handed her the package of letters that she hadn't opened.

"You don't know the half of it"

And so she delved into the correspondence Draco had received from Hermione, tracing this strange and dangerous romance from its very foundations, asking every now and again for his side of the story. He told her of their interaction. She'd been crying alone in a lonely passage and he hadn't realised it was her, so he'd gone to see if she was alright and tripped, sprawling on top of her. Being the good young Pureblood gentlemen, he'd immediately helped her up and apologised. This was before he'd realised she was a Muggleborn. He'd decided from the ease in which she'd mastered Charms she had to be Pureblooded.

**September 1991**

**To Draco,**

**I realise this may seem a little strange (that I am writing to you) but I thought it was probably appropriate considering the circumstances. I would like to thank you for what you did the other day. You did not have to, but you helped me. Anyway, thank-you for your kindness.**

**Sincerely yours,**

**Hermione Granger**

He told Ginny how he'd found out about her heritage, somewhere between their encounter in the abandoned corridor and receiving her letter, and replied with a rude and scathing letter condemning her for being a liar and a no-good bloody Muggleborn. Though he hadn't used the 'M' word, he may as well have.

**September 1991**

**To Draco,**

**Well, you did not have to be so rude! It was really uncalled for, considering you've already told me that you think I am smarter than the average witch, and that I should not listen to those nasty second year boys who called me ugly. Besides,I did not lie to you! You did not ask me about my family, and I don't see how it matters where I was born. I am better than you at Charms. So there.**

**Not sincerely yours because you are a git,**

**Hermione**

Ginny had to giggle at that; who knew young Hermione was so inarticulate?  It was strange, watching Draco's eyes grow faraway as he spoke about those days. The September 1991 days; of innocence and childhood and sunshine and detentions for lateness. There wasn't forbidden liaisons that could get both participants killed or evil men rising to positions of power through murder and subterfuge.

**To D,**

**You know, I still think it is ridiculous that you insist we use these psydenems (that's 'pretend names' to you) because who is really going to care that we owl each other? Aside from your father who, from what you've told me, and please do forgive me for saying it D, is a bit of a git. Anyway, as I was trying to tell Ronald Weasley today, Professor Flitwick is a dwarf not a goblin. Really, let us not get too carried away. I can understand Ron;he's always listening to those silly brothers of his, Fred and George, but you really do not have much of an excuse.You are a lot smarter than he is, you see, and don't go letting it inflate your ego. I am simply stating fact. I shan't discuss the troll matter with you anymore, so stop asking. Unless you know anything about a man named Nicholas Flammel?**

**Regards,**

**Eltanin**

**PS; why do you insist on calling me that?**

Folded immeditatey after this short note with one in a long, shaky script that could only be young Draco's. 

**To Eltanin**

**Well, the thing is, that all through this time that we have been writing, I keep thinking to the way I have to treat you when we are in public. I know it seems silly, but I rather like having you to myself like this. I don't have to share you when you are just Eltanin. Not with Potter or Weasley or anyone. The reason I insist on calling you that is because I happen to like Astrology. Eltanin is the name of the brightest star in the Draconis constellation. If you can't guess all the mush in that then you're really not as bright as you appear, are you? Anyway, I think I rather fancy you, you see.I think you are pretty and smart and when you get mad your eyes go really bright and shiny and sometimes I say things to you just to get a reaction out of you. I am worried about my father, and don't call him names, finding out that-**

This letter wasn't finished, and judging by the state of the parchment it had been scrunched up and nearly burned; there was a corner charred clean away where it should have said the date, a younger Draco had tried to destroy this evidence of his own feelings.

"Why didn't you send it?"

Draco looked at her incredulously from the window. "Are you joking? Why do you think? I may have only been a kid, but I understood the rules. A Pureblood and Muggleborn? My father would have skinned me alive; disowned, discredited and disinherited before I could say 'Quidditch', you can count on that"

"Does he know now?"

He swallowed, crossing the room, and reached past her into the chest, pulling out the crimson ribbon and three crumpled charcoal drawings, handing the pictures to her and keeping the ribbon in his other hand. She took them, spread them carefully on the floor so not to smudge the sharp, crisp lines.


	9. Chapter 9

A couple stood beneath a curving Parisian street light, their foreheads pressed together like they were sharing secrets. His hair was pale in the glowing full moon, hanging heavily above their heads, while hers was a blur of messy, dark scrawl, tangling down her back. The next was a close-up; lips, noses, closed eyes, lashes like fine brush strokes of calligraphy against their skin, the breath visible between their mouths. Finally, and here their features became clear in the daunting silver light, the couple whirled beneath party lights while a small band busked to the side; their hands, their smiles, their faces, her head inclined back in the ecstasy of their dance, his body bent to hers, supporting her in the dip, a look of wonder and possessiveness struck perfectly on his sharply refined features.

"Merlin, Godric and the Bloody Baron...these are beautiful" said Ginny, overcome by the emotion.

Draco shifted a stack of photos to sit beside her, one leg drawn up and a wrist hanging over it, the other crossed before him. He had the ribbon draped over his fingers and showed it to her.

"Hermione and I went to Paris. It was the end of Fourth Year; I hadn't spoken to her in months, really. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned, and we knew...things were going to get worse. So I took her to France...-" his smile was like a ghost of that crooked grin from the photograph on the grass; light, lopsided, but small and jaded. "-It was perfect. We lived like Muggle's for two weeks...-" a chuckle was startled from his throat as he thought about those days of brilliant happiness and disjointed perfection. "-She was so bloody worried about not having any adult supervision. I think her parents handled it better than she did..."

* * *

 

"Ah, hullo there Draco. Come to whisk my daughter away have you?" Dr Granger greeted the pale-skinned young man standing next to his daughter in the kitchen. He swallowed and reached out his unsteady hand to the older man.

"Yes I have sir, as long as it's still alright with you sir?"

"Ooh, darling, isn't he just a gem? He brought me flowers. You have to let her go"

Mrs Granger laughed, waving the beautifully delicate bouquet towards her husband. Footsteps thudded on the stairs and a moment later, Hermione appeared, her hair wild, her eyes bright and a smile brilliant on her lips. Dr and Mrs Granger watched, proud and sad, as the polite, intense young man before them became a stiff-postured jelly mould.

"Hullo Eltanin" he said as she stopped in front of him. She smiled and kissed his jaw quickly before turning to her parents. Mrs Granger smiled and opened her arms. Hermione ran into them and returned the fierce hug of a mother who is about to let go of her child in more ways than simply waving her off the back porch to collect their Portkey to Paris.

"Mum...?" Hermione looked into her mother's eyes, identical to her own. Mrs Granger held her face in her hands.

"I trust you darling-" she looked over her daughter's head to Draco. "-And after everything you've told us, we trust Draco to look after you"

"I swear I won't let anything happen to her" the young wizard assured them. Hermione still looked unconvinced because then she turned to her father, who simply nodded.

"Now you'll call us won't you? None of this owl business; I want to hear your voice every day, is that understood?"

"Thank you daddy!"

* * *

 

"What about yours? Your parents" Ginny asked, treading lightly. 

Draco's lips jerked brutally as he smothered a sneer.

"Mother...didn't really understand. She was just happy that I'd found someone. Lucius was...far more savvy. He knew as soon as he saw the colour of that damn ribbon. Besides, in his opinion, it was unhealthy to be happy in love so young. He was afraid something…so _inappropriate_ would compromise my loyalties"

"What did they do?" she was almost afraid to find out.

"I refused to tell them who it was and they let themselves believe she was at least a Pureblood, so I didn't dissuade them. I think…I think my father knew but...he didn't say it aloud because...it would make it real"

He looked her dead in the eyes and frowned; "You don't understand how much he does for me and mum. He made some stupid mistakes when he was younger, but...becoming a father changes a man. He did-he raised me, the way he was raised to believe was right. The same prejudices, the same beliefs. Don't believe what they tell you about him...least not everything. He's...a good father"

Ginny looked back down at the letters, trying to make the opposing images meld. "A good father...but not a good man?" she inquired thinking about the difference before meeting his eyes.

He laughed humourlessly to himself but didn't answer. Picking up the close-up drawing, he fiercely smudged the line of the boy's nose, almost raising a cry of dispute from Ginny and giving the image the appearance that the boy was crying.

* * *

 

"So,do you think I passed the test?" he asked her as they made their way, arm in arm,down the quiet Muggle street. Hermione giggled, turning back from the final farewell wave.

"I'm here with you, aren't I?" she pointed out. He glanced across at her, his eyes softening in a way they only ever did when she was with him.

"Merlin, I hope so" he muttered quietly and she stopped them to rise up on tiptoes and press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. The brief taste of paradise wasn't enough for the sixteen-year-old Malfoy and he trapped her face in his palms and stole a long, breath-taking kiss. Hermione pulled away, catching her breath, and laughed at the cheated expression on his face.

"Come on or we'll miss the Portkey!" She grabbed his hand and tugged.

"I'll just book another one if we do" he grumbled, allowing himself to be pulled along like a disobedient child.

Meeting her parents hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be.Her father was downright scary,and her mother asked too many questions for him to feel in the slightest bit comfortable. His first thought was how _normal_ they seemed and those built-in Pureblood prejudices had come slinking back into his head like a returned mutt. He'd quickly dispelled them and looking back now, Dr and Mrs Granger were very nice people concerned for their only daughter running off to spend a holiday with a stranger, a boy they hadn't met for longer than an hour. Hermione must have told them that the subject of their future was taboo, because they didn't ask him the expected questions about what he was going to do when he left school, for which he was grateful. After all, if things went the way he thought they would, he would be spending the years after Hogwarts behind bars, in hiding or dead.

The hotel Hermione and her mother had booked was lovely. By no means five star, the balcony had a captivating view of the Eiffel Tower, two bedrooms and a shared bathroom, a kitchen and a lounge room.

"I swear I said something about money not being an option" drawled Draco as Hermione swung open the door and bounced inside.

Being the perfect Pureblood gentleman, he was toting their bags while Hermione was armed with the key. She laughed.

"Yes, because I feel ever so comfortable about taking a holiday courtesy of the Malfoy fortune. Besides, you haven't seen the balcony yet!" She exited to the left, leaving Draco standing in the hall looking bemused.

"Funny, I could have sworn my last name was...Eltanin, love? What's this bloody thing?"

She came back in, brow furrowed, and discovered Draco looking intently at the large black box in the corner of the sitting area. She quickly smothered a giggle.

"It's called a television, _Croyant_. You watch things on it"

He arched one perfect eyebrow. "Muggles and their bloody contraptions" He turned to face her, with her hands on her hips in the wide, arched doorway and mimicked her stance. "So _mademoiselle_ , shall we explore this fair city?"

She grinned happily. "Oh do lets!"

* * *

 

"We had our first real fight that week...it was brilliant" he said with a crooked smile.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Brilliant?"

He winked. "Make up sex Weasley"

She looked horrified. "Ugh! You were only sixteen!"

"It was 'Mione's first time" he looked aside as if a little ashamed. Ginny's jaw dropped.

"Merlin's beard! The minx! She swore to me black and blue her first kiss was Viktor bloody Krum!"

He looked at her. "The Quidditch player from the Tournament? Not bloody likely. She only went with him to piss Ron off"

It seemed a strange thing to say, considering the context and Ginny frowned.

"You know, after Lavender...at the medical wing when Ron was poisoned...we thought the two of them..."

Draco looked pained and shrugged. "Ask me anything in the whole bloody world..." he muttered darkly under his breath before rubbing his eyes, steeling himself to reply. "It...we're not the most...like you see; we had this problematic, heart-breaking disaster to call ours. Weasley was always Hermione's...safe zone. Him and Potter were the ones she could rely on. She couldn't always rely on me, and what we had-have...it was borderline love and hate. Just pure, messy _passion_ most of the time" he spat the word in a way reminiscent of Snape. "After the Astronomy Tower...well. It wasn't always...I couldn't begrudge her. I'm not saying I wouldn't murder your brother if he manages to say the right bloody thing to her while they're off gallivanting around doing whatever they're doing, but...I just want her to be happy and if...if that's not with me anymore...fine"

She raised her chin curiously, causing Draco to stand and move away. She wondered if she should tell him out the great Horcrux hunt, but his back was turned before she had a chance. "Keep reading..." he muttered.

* * *

 

 

**1992**

**To Croyant,**

**Do you like it? I bet you don't, but I do, so I'm keeping it. It's a lot more secretive that your last alias. It's rather a play on words, you see, because I'm not entirely sure whether you are or not, and I suppose I won't ever be sure. Your words about what happened at Florish and Blotts were perfect. Oh, and don't go thinking that I think it's okay for you to be all mean and nasty just because and then make it up by saying sweet things, because I certainly don't! How you acted was petty and immature. I suppose you have said some perfectly awful things to your father about me. I don't mind if you have. I've written (and said) horrid things to my parents about you. How mean you act sometimes and the trivial little things that send you into a huge sulk. Don't deny it you know it's true. I still haven't gotten the meaning of your name for me, as you have probably guessed. Since you refuse to tell me, can I not get some kind of clue? Anything would help, but an exact library location would be fantastic. So are you looking forward to the new Quidditch season? Our house is going mad about it and I still find it all rather over the top. After all, having Harry is no guarantee that we will win. We didn't win last year, after all. Gave your lot a run for their money though. Anyway, I'll see you in class in a moment anyway.**

**Love, Eltanin**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of HELLA underage sex.

Ginny took note of a short gap in their correspondence after the _'Nobody asked your opinion,you filthy little Mudblood'_ incident, and with a blush that surprised her, Draco told her about the hours he spent sitting by her bedside after hours in the hospital wing when she was petrified.

"I couldn't even begin to explain to you what that was like. I felt like...well, I felt like I messed up. I had no idea how to fix it...then she...you know I actually believed it was Potter who was the Heir? Until they pulled that thing with the Polyjuice Potion...still grates, that. I bloody would have told her if she'd asked, the chit. I ran into them once, leaving the Hospital Wing, Potter and Weasley. I wished...I could have said something. Told them I...they looked like...-" Draco snorted with dark humour and suddenly noticed the expression on Ginny's face.

"Sorry" he said, realising. She shrugged.

"It's okay. If Hermione can forgive me..."

"Wasn't you. It was the diary" he said, matter-of-factly.

Even though she'd been told that, almost exactly, many times, it was different coming from him. From under her lashes, Ginny studied him sharply.

"What do you know about it?"

Draco shrugged. "Enough. I knew it was a Horcrux, but I didn't understand what it meant. I knew it was sitting in my father's desk drawer for months...-" he hesitated- "I knew I accidently touched it once, heard this...voice, and passed out cold for two straight days"

"Godric bloody Gryffindor!...what happened?"

Draco shrugged, concentrating on threading Hermione's crimson hair ribbon through his fingers. He was leaning against the window frame, only half turned towards her. "I woke up in bed and Lucius told me if I ever went into his study again he'd kill me"

Ginny's jaw dropped, horror scrawled across her features as blatant as words. Registering her silence, Draco looked up and spoke sharply.

"Oh bloody Hell, Weasley; he said it as he was hugging me so tight I could barely _breathe_! Sort of takes the sting out of it really. My father is not...he's not all bad...not really"

Struggling again to consolidate the words with the man, her memories with what she knew, Ginny flicked to the next letter, speaking as she did; "That's what they're off doing. Hunting the Horcruxes"

Draco flinched. "I thought so" he said, choked.

She looked up, but his face was turned pointedly away, and she ducked her head to focus on the letters, giving him time to gather himself. Finally paying attention, she cocked one eyebrow at what she read.

**1993**

**Croyant:**

**It is irresponsible and wrong and-there are lines that need to be considered. Our responsibilities to our friends and our sides and what we are. You kissed me and yes, DCroyant, I kissed you back, but it was a mistake. I should not have done what I did and to be honest- ~~I don't know what to do.~~ I know what I am meant to do, what I should do, and I know what I want to do but unfortunately the three things do not meld easily. Why did you do it? Why did you have to make everything so ruddy complicated? Of course, what I'm really asking is why you couldn't just be the person I've always thought you were; a living example of archaic, prejudiced doctrines who hate me and hate everything that my friends stand for. How are we meant to- I will find you and we'll talk, alright? Just don' ~~t-just don't kiss me because~~ \- Just don't.**

**Eltanin.**

Ginny glanced at the garbled, nearly incomprehensible mishmash of half written sentences and scratched out first tries, trying to imagine her dear, articulate friend writing this nonsense. The next note had no greeting or salutation. Just sharply inked words that spoke volumes for the emotion behind them.

**I don't think I've ever been so confused in my life. On one hand,I've got you; being all eloquent and charming and arrogant and that smirk that could coax me into just about anything. Then,in the other, I've got my best friend and this darkness and fear and blackness (excuse the truly terrible pun) and I don't know what to do and I don't know how to help and you're not making it any damn easier. It's just that, I'm here. I'm whoever I am,and you are your father's son.So I'm desperately trying to consolidate the two parts of you;the one who told me everything would be fine,who made everything not so terrifying just by holding onto me like you would never,ever let go,and the other part of you, who teased Harry after he was attacked by a bloody Dementor! Who are you?**

Ginny let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding and shook her swimming head before she dared to look up at Draco. He was sitting now on the window seat, one leg drawn up and a lazy arm wrapped around it, the other foot dragging against the flagstone floor. He had a brooding slant across his brow as he surveyed the outside world.

"Oh, Draco. Now I see" she breathed the word as she looked down at the letters, not even realising she'd used his first name.

Draco's nose wrinkled comically. "Yeah. Enough to make you sick really. It was always like that. There was never...it was just...it isjust this incredibly volatile-" he looked at her, watching him try to find the words. "-One minute she's Hermione Granger; this know-it-all, bushy-haired little... _Gryffindor_ with Potter's left ear and the world wrapped around her little finger. The very thing my father always found reason to scold me for my efforts. A Muggleborn; always, always one step in front of me. I thought...if I can befriend her, I can destroy her. Then, all of a sudden, she's really my friend. And we're talking about Professor Flitwick and Nicholas Flammel and feeling like sleuths because I helped her manipulate those buffoon friends of hers into thinking _they'd_ remembered who Nicholas Flammel was. We figured it was the Philosopher's Stone long before Harry read that stupid Chocolate Frog card" he sounded proud. Ginny shook her head.

"You know how hard this is to swallow, right?"

He gave her a sardonic look. "I have an inkling"

"So when she, talks about you kissing her, here...?" she waved the completely ineloquent letter.

Draco smiled; it was a half-smile, shadowed by the emotions that came long after that first kiss. "She was so mad at me-" he chuckled- "And I knew I was in trouble when she sends me this note that just says 'Lake. After school' or something equally as ominous...do you know what I thought?"

"I cannot imagine" Ginny answered honestly.

Draco bumped the back of his head against the window frame as if berating himself for something yet to come. "I remember thinking; it's not fair she's so beautiful. Merlin, I'd never have told her...but if I had even realised what I was about to do, I could not have stopped myself. I don't even think it was _love_ yet, certainly not _lust,_ not really. We were thirteen, for _Merlin's_ sake...-"

"When, exactly, did you lose your virginity?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed. He looked spooked. "You said it Hermione'sfirst time when you were sixteen. Not yours"

He wrinkled his nose. "You know, I'd rather not answer that"

With a movement of her head that made him want to curl into a small ball (damn Weasley glare) he muttered something into his hand.

"What?" Ginny cried, thinking she must have seriously misheard him wrong. He scratched the back of his head.

"When...when Hermione was de-Petrified she...she came running down that hall and she just...threw her arms around bloody Potter...I was so mad I...well, anyway. Pansy lost hers earlier than me!"

"You were twelve years old!"

"We're Purebloods. We mature faster" he shot back loftily.

Ginny muttered something about 'randy, forked-tongue inbred' which Draco chose pointedly to ignore.

"Look, it was something. It was something because...because she was kissing me. I forgot everything; my name, my father, my House, everything...just for that moment..." something broke in his voice and he cleared his throat hastily, standing and beginning to pace sharply before the bloody Weaslette thought him completely soft.

"What happened, when you met afterwards?"

"We talked. For hours. I...-" he took a deep, slow, trembling breath. "-I told her about my Father. My mother; how beautiful she is, how much she loved me, how much she wanted other children, but couldn't...I told her about flying; she hates heights you know. We talked...about what makes something evil. I wondered whether I was, because everyone my father was. Damn it we...we _prided_ ourselves on having Death Eaters in the family, that's...that was the way I knew, and she made me question all of that. She was _terrified_ of Sirius Black, of him finding Harry and killing him. She was so bloody loyal to him. I envied the hell out of Potter...still do" he added this quietly, an admission he didn't really want her to hear.

Ginny flicked across the dates in the next few pieces of parchment and did some quick maths in her head, counting with her fingers against the edge of the letters. Then she looked up.

"Which all does sort of explain the Buckbeak incident" she said probingly.

He looked up, rose from the window seat and settled himself on the outer edge of the chaotic circle she had gathered around herself. He pointed to his cheekbone. "See that scar there? You can barely see it now, but it looks like four little crescents right against my cheek bone"

Ginny leaned a little closer to study his skin and could just make out the tiny, faint shapes he described. "Yes. What about them?"

He gave her a sheepish look and her eyes widened. "You're _joking_! But I thought...Ron and Harry said she punched you!"

He nodded. "She punched me in front of them. When I tried to explain myself later, she slapped me...her nails might have come into play...a lot"

It took a fair bit of effort for Ginny to smother her laughter. Draco narrowed his eyes at her, the Malfoy pride she was so used to finally rearing its aristocratic head. She didn't apologise; not that he expected her to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Darling Croyant;**

**There are times, fleeting, wonderful, irritating times, when I wonder what I did to deserve you in my life. As yet, I'm unsure whether that is a negative or a positive thing. Thank-you for the flowers. I can't believe you remembered my favourites! Any other time, I'd be berating my friends for telling you. However, somehow I doubt that was this case here. Furthering my amazement, I have actually learned something from you. Or did you just make up their symbolism? You are such a smart aleck git sometimes.**

**Love, Eltanin**

* * *

 

Ginny smirked and showed him the short note, making a show of her raised eyebrow. Draco rolled his eyes.

"She told me what her favourite flowers were! We were talking about it once...oh, don't give me that look, Weasley. We were fifteen; we had to stop snogging sometime!"

Ginny screwed up her face and made a disgusted noise, smacking his arm with the bunch of letters to wipe the smug look off his face.

"So what's yours then?"

"My, what?"

She gestured with the letter. "Your favourite flower"

For the second time in less than five minutes, blood crept across Draco's high cheek bones. He muttered something incomprehensible and then sighed dramatically as Ginny crossed her arms pointedly, tapping her fingers against her bicep with tangible impatience.

"Snapdragons, Weasley. My favourite flowers are Snapdragons..." he trailed off, pulling the ribbon entwined through his fingers across his knuckles like a caress. "Eltanin told me once, in the fight I'm apologising for here, that they symbolise deception. I went and looked up what irises symbolise; wisdom and valour...friendship. Faith. And hope" he looked up, their eyes meeting, and for that one heartbeat, his walls were down and she saw his uncertainty, saw his pain and fear, the attraction and whatever it had become conflicting with family and blood and age-old loyalty; saw beyond the boy in the iron mask.

"Tell me. Tell me how the two of you ended up here" she softly demanded, putting the letters down. Draco looked suddenly tired and turned his head against the wall, eyes fixed out the window.

"June 29th 1996. Five men in masks come into my room and grab me while I'm asleep. They drag me into hall...I can hear my Mother, crying, my father's trying to shut her up...I'm...trying to understand what's going on-" His voice was detached, fathomless, as though he was just reeling off facts, reading from a text that had been written long ago. The iron mask was firmly in place. Ginny did not dare to shift her position, lest she startle this flighty creature bathed in the silvery-red light of dusk to take to his heels. "-Then suddenly, I'm in the ballroom. They...throw me on the floor, and I hear a sound...scales, on the marble...and suddenly I knew-" his voice cracked and he looked away angrily. Ginny Weasley held her breath, remembering all those conversations between Hermione, Ron and Harry, urgently whispered, faces pinched. "-He-" Draco didn't have to say another word for her to know who he meant. "-Told me that the only choice I had was to do as he said. That it was the only path left for me; to rise up and redeem my father...or watch my mother suffer the consequences before he killed me...so I went to Borgin and Botts and I...I swore allegiance"

_"Harry is under the impression that Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater"_

Only now, she recalled her memories of Hermione's features during those conversations and found herself, once again, fighting to make the broken illusion meld together into a clear picture. Hermione must have known; yet she fought at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower and seemed as shocked as they all were at Malfoy's betrayal.

"I didn't want that brand, Ginny-" Draco's urgent voice cut across her thoughts like a pleading scythe. She started and looked up, realising he had mistaken her expression of deep thought for one of judging. "-But I couldn't think about it. Couldn't think about why. It would only take a split second and he would have gotten into my head and found out everything. Hermione. Her...dreams, and hopes, and me...every little touch, every look, every thought, would have been turned against me. Considered treason, betrayal. Everything, everyone...would have been purged. My mother, my father, my aunt-not that that would have been too much of a loss, but it would have been only the beginning" His expression raw, he dragged a heavy hand though his hair, taking his own weight and beginning to pace. She was unsure if he had noticed Hermione's ribbon still wrapped around his hand. Ginny drew her knees to her chest and waited until he had stroked the coals in the brazier.

"So you took the job"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, trying to read her expression, and then returned to prodding the embers. "Yes. I did. I did it because it was the. Only. Bloody .Way..."

"Then what?" She tried to mould her voice to mimic his moments before; that flawless, emotionless hum of regurgitated information without inflection or commitment. It didn't work as well for her. Malfoy had spent years practising the art of hiding his emotions. On the other hand, she had spent years with her heart on her sleeve, every emotion written across her face.

"Then nothing. I ignored her owls. I tried very hard to ignore her but...she doesn't give up easily, our Hermione..."

* * *

 

"Let. Me. _Help_! What's going on, Draco?"

"Leave me the fuck alone, Granger. Didn't you get the message? We're done. I'm done. You were a charity case that I am sick of funding"

Her arms were crossed over her chest and he watched his barbed words lash her face. She flinched as each one left his mouth.

"Are you done being a self-absorbed wanker, Malfoy, or would you like to continue ranting at the wrong person?" she asked calmly,no trace in her voice of the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Salazar's bloody fangs, you really don't get it,do you Mudblood? I'm sick of you.You're ugly and boring and I. Am. Sick of you"

Never let it be said that Hermione Granger was a weakling. She seized Draco by the front of his robes and shoved him back into the wall.

"You utter _arse_  Malfoy!"

He pushed her away by the shoulders, gingerly, as if she was diseased, a look of utter disgust painted on his aristocratic features.

"Think what you like Granger, just leave me alone"

Draco twisted past her, turning his back, and walking away. Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm; his left forearm. His response; jerking away with a cry of pain, was immediate. Hermione's eyes widened and under her breath a barely-uttered prayer made it's way to some deity. Her fingers were still tightly wrapped around his arm. When he'd yanked, her hand only slipped down. Now she shoved up the sleeve of his robe before he had a chance to react and her eyes fell upon the tainted mar upon his perfect skin. She gasped a strangled sound of dispute and raised her eyes to his. The answer, the terrible confirmation, was written in his eyes.

"Hermione..." her name fell past his lips and he pulled her into the polluted circle of his arms as she began to cry. Into the sweet curls of her hair, he did too; racking sobs which shook them both to their core. "G-Godric and the Founders, baby, baby I'm sorry,I'm so sorry,Eltanin, Merlin,luv,I'm _sorry_ "

Who knew how long the two of them stood there for,entwined, their tears cleansing and staining the skin of the other.They held the other tight, hoping that if they stood close enough, if they embraced hard enough, the air between them and around them would ignite.They hoped that if the fire was burning hot,if it consumed them so fiercely,it would keep the rest of the world at bay.This horrible reality could not encroach. All they needed to do was find the spark and let the flames devour them, burn away their sins, and leave nothing but the ash so like the phoenix, they could rise anew.

"What now?" she asked later, curled with him in the Room of Requirement. How they made it there without being seen was a blur of quickly cast spells and lips and teeth and held-in gasps. He kissed her swollen,reddened lips lightly, soothing the brutal marks of their attempt to light themselves on fire and sat up,swinging his legs out of the bed.He heard the covers they hadn't made it under shift as she moved to watch him.He went to his shirt and retrieved the Galleon she had merged with the Protean charm long before the DA was even an idea and flicked it into the air. Heads.

"You forget, Eltanin. For now, at least, we forget"

"You know I won't do that"

He turned tiredly.

"You have to, sweetheart. You have to forget all this or he's going to kill you, me, my mother, my father. He's going to hunt down your parents. If Potter looses, he's going to hunt down your friends anyway. We're on different sides at the moment, darling"

"At the moment.Just at the moment?"

She was self-conscious about walking around stark naked, which he wasn't. She noted he held his left arm a little closer to his side; either because it pained him or because he was ashamed of the symbol writ on it, she couldn't tell. Probably a bit of both. Carefully tugging the sheet out, she held it to her front and walked across the room to stand before him. He was half-smiling, eyes lit beautifully with awe at her beauty; hair deliciously mussed, lips soft and swollen, the crisp white sheet a stunning, mouth-watering contrast to her light honey skin.

"Draco,was it you who cursed Katie Bell?"

Every muscle in his body convulsed and he couldn't move enough to even nod. His vocal cords seized up. She knew though; she nodded sadly and looked down.He couldn't stand her not looking at him, not being able to tell with a single glance what she was thinking, so he caught her chin with graceful fingers and forced her to look up.

"What's your mission, Draco?"

He dropped his hand to her shoulder and wordlessly shook his head. Her jaw shifted obstinately. "Are more people going to get hurt?" she whispered, her mind warring with her heart as he juggled his possible answers. Part of her needed to know;the part of her that wasn't viewing an enemy,the part of her bent on protecting her friends at all costs.The other part,the part that was a girl looking at the boy she loved in nothing but a sheet, didn't want to know. Finally, he nodded. Her face shattered and she dropped her forehead onto his naked chest. "Is there any way to stop it?" she asked, choked. He kissed the top of her head sadly. "Is terrorizing the students the objective? Getting Dumbledore fired?" His wide blue-grey eyes blinked slowly and he lowered his head to taste the already bruised, sweet skin of her neck. She shivered as his words rumbled through her bones.

"Come back to bed, my darling"


	12. Chapter 12

"Hermione knew? She knew about it? Right from the start?" demanded Ginny, now standing.

Draco sighed. "No, she didn't. She knew I was working for Voldemort. That's it. We cut ties at that point...for a bit"

"What happened after the Battle of the Astronomy Tower?"

"She came to me before that" he said sadly.

* * *

 

She watched him as he struggled. He wanted to leave; she could tell by the look on his face. He wanted to leave, but he couldn't.

"If you can't tell me...just... _Croyant_...Draco... just sit here with me? _Please_?"

His heart clenched. She watched his face screw up and he looked away sharply,as though he'd been struck by something heavy. He needed silence to make his decision. Needed time; but time was something they didn't have. Harry and Dumbledore were gone. Something was happening, something fast and dark. 

"We were friends once" she stabbed desperately. He swung at her. 

" _Friends_? I was a naive and spoilt little boy and you were an awkward, stuck-up little girl. Between the two of us we had the life experience of a house cat!" he spat. 

She recoiled against the wall and glared. "My best friend fought Voldemort when we were eleven! I was petrified by a basilisk when I was twelve! When I was thirteen I went back in time to rescue a wrongly convicted murderer and save a bloody Hippogriff from _your_ stupidity! When I was fourteen-" 

"That's _now_ , Hermione! Back then? Back then I had no idea what I was getting you into! Getting me into! Salazar's teeth, Hermione, you have no idea what is about to happen-" he cut himself off. 

She grabbed his arm. "Harry and Dumbledore are gone. My friends are in the halls waiting for a fight. And if I know you, they're about to get one" 

He shuddered gracefully and his head fell to her shoulder as his breath became ragged gasps. Her knees shook with the strain of holding up his frail body, but she held him nonetheless. Draco swallowed hard, pushing her away to stand alone again. He kept one pale, brittle hand on her shoulder and looked at her. His eyes were haunted, empty silver-grey caverns, flooding slowly with desperation. "You...have to...get out of here-" he struggled, spitting the words. "-Get the hell out" He shoved her.

She grabbed his shoulders. "Draco! It doesn't have to be this way! Tell me what's going on and we can _stop_ it" 

He raised the hand on her shoulder to cup her face with a shaking hand. His eyes drilled hers, memorising every delicate aspect of her features. 

"You can't stop it. You have to s-save me-" 

"Let me in before you do anything you're going to need saving from!" her voice rose to a shout, a desperate plea to be heard through his frozen iron walls. Her heart was pounding; it was all too much. Harry was in danger, her friends were in danger, and this boy in a man's shell was shattering before her eyes. And she _cared_. Dammit, she bloody cared! She gripped the wrist of the hand against her cheek and pulled him closer, her other hand tangled in the front of his robes.  "Please... _please_ Draco...?" 

He trembled, shallow breaths whistling through his teeth like he was cold, freezing. He was freezing from the inside out. Even she, his Gryffindor flame, could not warm him. "Please...?" now her voice was a strangled whisper, breaking like thin ice upon a lake. To her later horror, she realised she was crying. Crying tears that he could not. He flinched, jerking like someone had hit him. When their gazes clashed again, his walls had shattered. He was terrified...and...she gasped at the clarity of conflicting emotion. 

"Draco-" 

"Don't enjoy this" he ordered her, bending his head. A surge of pure electricity lanced through her and she jolted against his body. His cold lips brushed over hers, sending a current of unexplainable emotion through her, igniting everything inside her. She was paranormally aware of every part of him that was touching her; his hands cupping her face, his too thin chest, the way they locked together with the jagged perfection of a pair of puzzle pieces. Don't enjoy this? Was he completely insane? This was unlike anything she had ever experienced. This was everything she had ever experienced, only better. This was soaring through the sky on the back of a Hippogriff. This was nailing that essay, completing that potion to perfection. This was descending the stairs into the arms of Viktor Krum, seeing the uncomprehending and jealous eyes of every girl in the room, and many of the boys. This was seeing her otter Patronus frolic around her for the first time and seeing Ron going flying against the wall, wiping that smug look off his face. Suddenly she felt a stony shock and her arms and legs slammed together. Coolness wrapped around her and she would have fallen straight back if his arms weren't around her. Gently, he pulled her to the side and lay her down. Behind the Full Body-Bind, she struggled and screamed at him. He was biting his raw lip as he brushed hair from her face. 

"I'm sorry" he whispered and kissed her unyielding lips. 

She. Was. Going. To. Kill him! 

* * *

 

"So that's where she went..." Ginny commented. She was beyond shock by now, and had come to the point of just accepted what was told to her, storing it away to be examined another time, in another place. Draco shrugged. 

"It was dumb luck she found me. I was just coming down from the dorms with my Hand of Glory when she ran into me" 

Ginny snorted. 

"Felix Felicis isn't dumb" she said. He did a double take and apparently decided not to ask. "So what happened then?" 

"I left her there and let Death Eaters into the school. I let them in to pollute the one place we had left. That's on me" 

There was no pity in Ginny's gaze. "Do you see me arguing? Where did you go then? After..." 

_After you stood by and let Severus Snape kill the greatest wizard I knew. After your actions polluted the skies of Hogwarts with the Mark_. 

Draco flinched as if he could hear her thoughts. His hand fisted around the ribbon. 

"I went with them. I had to. They went back to the Manor and...celebrated. I left again as soon as I could. The alarms went off when I came onto the grounds, obviously. McGonagall came. I think it was only because I looked so bloody pitiful that she didn't hex my balls off on the spot-" Ginny made a vague sound of agreement. "Anyway, I demanded to speak to Granger. I sort of knew Potter and Weasley would be with her. Acted like a right twat if I'm honest..." 

"So nothing unusual then?" she interjected wryly. Draco rolled his eyes. 

* * *

 

"Miss Granger, I will understand if you don't-" 

"I'm sorry Professor, but you're the one who doesn't understand...Draco!" 

He was sitting with his head in his hands, flanked by two teachers and Professor Flitwick was standing to one side, holding his wand. At the sound of Hermione's voice, he leapt to his feet. Immediately, he was grabbed by both arms. McGonagall had gone still with shock at the sound of the Slytherin boy's first name falling from the Gryffindor princess' lips, and the rest of the room quickly joined her state of frozen surprise. Harry and Ron's wands were out but, like the others, they'd stilled in the face of the revelation before them. 

"No, let him go! Let him go!" she threw her arms around his neck even as she shakily demanded his release. His arms still held, Draco let his face fall to her shoulder. "Thank God, thank God, Draco...-"she raised her face, fighting tears, and then slapped him. The sound revibrated around the room and everyone flinched. "-You wanker! You _twat!_ You total and absolute-I thought I'd lost you!" she swore, apparently completely forgetting that they stood in a room of four teachers. Nobody commented on the Gryffindor princess' apparent fall from grace, however. His cheek throbbing, Draco kissed at the spots of fury lighting her cheeks. 

" I'm sorry, Eltanin. It was the only thing I could think of!" 

"Ooh you're _sorry_ are you? Well that just makes it all bloody rosy then, doesn't it you self-absorbed _buffoon_!" 

"You're alive aren't you?" 

"Some of us aren't!" her last words were choked. 

Draco's face fell. Harry and Ron looked at each other. There was a long moment where the room seemed to have filled with honey and nobody could move. Haltingly, Hermione caught Draco's face in her hands. 

"Why didn't you say something Draco?" 

The teachers holding his arms had let go now Hermione had stopped yelling and Draco raised his hands to cover hers, linking their fingers together, dragging her palm to his mouth and branded her skin with his cold lips. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione" he said softly. McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly and was ignored. 

"Do they know you're here?" she asked. He shook his head. 

"No, and I can't stay long-" 

"You're going _back_?" she cried. He flinched at the accusation in her words and squeezed her fingers. 

"Darling, I'm sorry, but I have to" 

"Are you mental? They'll kill you!" 

"They don't know anything; nothing! The only way to keep you safe-" 

"Malfoy, that's bullocks and you know it! It's _bullocks_! The Order will protect you, won't they?-" she swung now to face the bemused Professor McGonagall. "-If Draco crosses sides, he'll be protected, won't he?" 

The Professor had no time to answer, even her highly capable mind struggling to comprehend what her eyes and ears were telling it. Draco grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. Ron growled audibly and was ignored. 

"Hermione, don't be daft! They can't protect me, and mum and Lucius! And Crabbe and Goyle and Zabini and Parkinson and the Greengrass girls. Not even the Order could protect them all, and if I...he'll go after all of them with a...I wouldn't wish that on anyone" 

"There has to be _something_!" she countered fiercely, a hard-fought tear trickling down her cheek to collect at the corner of her mouth. Draco brushed it away with a shaking fingertip, his face hard. He was searching her features for something, she wasn't sure what. Then he seemed to come to a decision. 

"Hermione, listen; under my bed there's a box with a blood lock-" 

"A blood lock? Are you-" He put a finger over her lips. 

"Shh, shh, shh. If anything is to happen to me, Hermione, you are the only one who can open it. Do you understand?" 

There was a soft gasp from the short Charms professor, and around the room, hands tightened infinitesimally on wands. Hermione drew a short, ragged breath, her eyes ablaze as she took a breath to launch into a typical Hermione-Jean rant...but let the breath out slowly, unused. He smiled sadly at her ceding defeat and pushed a tangled curl back from her features, tucking it hesitatingly behind the shell of her ear. She sniffed and nodded, gritting her teeth against the tears that rose to her eyes. When she lifted her face again, he was watching her with a sad, crooked smile and she managed to raise a grimace for him. He opened his mouth to say something, when Professor McGonagall cut him off. 

"I apologise for the interruption, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, but I feel we have been patient enough! What on earth is going on here?" 

Draco looked up at her over Hermione's head as his lover groaned lightly and dropped her forehead to his chest. He heard her inhale deeply; rich fabric, the tang of blood and sweat, smoke and dust, and expensive cologne and the crisp, cold fragrance of ice that she could never quite place. 

"Would you like to break the news or or shall I?" he asked the top of her head softly. Hermione took a deep pull of air and let it out shortly. 

"If she hasn't figured it out by now..." she muttered darkly. 

Draco chortled and Hermione stood straight. Their fingers instinctively found each other, like new shoots seeking the sun, and curled together in a potent gesture that could not be misunderstood. McGonagall drew in a short, violent breath as the other teachers began to mutter. She raised a hand for silence and whipped her spectacles from her nose. Nobody spoke as the matriarch closed her eyes, the hand holding her glasses pressed to her lips, the other resting matter-of-factly on her hip. Harry stepped forward, his sad green eyes on Hermione alone. 

"Hermione...?" he couldn't form the words. She bit her lip. 

"I'm so sorry Harry. I wanted so desperately to tell you but..." 

"Wait, what about..." he looked pointedly between her and Ron. Pain and apprehension lanced across her face. Ron's arms were folded. Harry stood aside, apparently waiting. 

"When we went after the Philosopher's Stone, what piece were you on the chessboard?" he asked. Harry's eyebrows raised as he realised the significance of the question; Ron didn't believe he was truly looking at their Hermione. He looked back at her; her eyes fluttered briefly in thought. 

"A castle. Ron, I'm-" 

He stepped away and shook his head angrily. Aggressively, his eyes turned to Draco and he snarled soundlessly. In the same instance,Professor McGonagall looked up,her piercing gaze lingering on her students still clasped hands, and sighed heavily. As though she needed to check if she had imagined the last few moments and their silent confession was a thing of a bad dream. 

"Well. This is quite the development. Though I am quite sure we can skip on the details, might I enquire as to how this...-" she struggled for the words and seemed to give a mental shrug, opting instead to gesture vaguely between the two of them with her glasses. "-Came about?" 

Draco looked down at her, waiting for her to speak. Hermione reached into her shirt and retrieved a chain from her neck; there was the signet ring of the House of Malfoy.The boy's grey-blue eyes lit up upon seeing it and he smiled. He smiled in a way that would have made anyone's heart squeeze. For Professor Minerva McGonagall, always the first to question the blind faith which Albus Dumbledore awarded people who, for all intents and purposes, should not be the objects of such faith, it was a ground-breaking moment. The smile on Draco Malfoy's face was one full of light and promise and love. He met her eyes with the light of the gesture still lingering there. 

"It...just happened, Professor. We've been...it's been, complicated...since second year" 

Her eyes bulged again and she quickly summoned a chair before she fell. 

" _Second Year?_ My word...my.." she seemed at loss for words. 

"He called you a Mudblood! He nearly got Buckbeak _killed_! He nearly got us killed tonight! You _punched_ him in the _face_!" Ron exploded finally, staring at the two of them. 

Hermione looked ready to burst into tears in the face of her dear friend's rage. 

"Are you two sure about this?" Minerva spoke as if he hadn't said a word. 

Again, Draco looked to Hermione, who looked down at the ring caught between her forefinger and thumb. 

"No..." she began finally, making Draco's face pale and McGonagall's eyebrows rise as her chin came up. "-But I am more sure of this than I am of _anything_ else" 

The current climate gave the words weight. Draco shrugged when the Gryffindor Head of House turned her piercing gaze to him. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life" he said in a monotone and looked pointedly at Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived looked unsurprisingly shell-shocked, his eyes were still raw from weeping. Hermione said nothing as McGonagall gathered her scorched robes around her figure primly. 

"Very well. Mr Malfoy, where do you suppose we go from here?" 

"You have to let me go, Professor" he replied and she started. Hermione and Draco both stiffened until what felt like a lifetime later, she nodded curtly. 

"Very well. I will escort you from the grounds, Mr Malfoy. Professor Flitwick, Mr Malfoy's wand, if you please" 

"Bugger off! Professor you can't be serious!" Ron cried. She fixed him with her abnormally sharp eyes. 

"But I am, Mr Weasley. Do you have a problem with that?" 

"Problem? You're bloody well right I have a problem! He's a Death Eater! He's a ruddy Death Eater!" 

"Ron, please..." Hermione begged him. 

He turned to her, gesturing wildly with his hands. "Hermione, have you gone completely mad? He's the reason Dumbledore's-" he trailed off, swinging away to clap a hand over his mouth and catch his breath. 

"Snape killed him, not me!" Draco said harshly, eyes on Ron's back. The Weasley son whirled, an accusatory finger pointed at him. 

"You let them in! You did!" 

"Nobody knows that better than me, Weasley!" 

"You-!" Ron leaped at him, but Harry was suddenly, there, standing between them. Wielding the full weight of his smaller form, Harry managed to restrain his friend. 

"Ron! Stop it!" he shouted. 

One hand still tight on Ron's heaving shoulder, Harry looked over to Hermione and Draco. Hermione had pulled Draco back and now stood slightly in front of the other boy, who was revved for a fight, eyes glinting with something slightly mad. His wand was still in Professor Flitwick's small hand. The teachers were all shifting uneasily, unsure of which way this capricious situation was going to burst next. Harry gave a light sigh and turned fully to face them. There was the age of eons enslaving the features of his face, burdening the green light of his eyes as he surveyed them. The room held its breath; somehow, the entire situation seemed to rest on how the Chosen One would react in this moment. 

"I don't like you-" he began finally, looking straight into Draco, past his set jaw and glinting eyes, into the flayed soul that lay beneath. "-I don't trust you as far as Colin Creevey could smack a bludger...but...-"his eyes shifted slightly to Hermione. "-I trust her. I'd trust her with my life. I'd...I'd, kill for her, and I'd die for her and...and I want to know if you'd do the same" 

Hermione flinched when the 'd' word emerged, estranged, from Harry's mouth, and then looked at Draco. His face was something between understanding, fury and the default conceit which arrayed the edge of his every expression instinctively. He swallowed. 

"You know, I didn't see us ending up here six years ago" he commented, stepping forward. 

"Neither did I" Harry admitted, watching him. 

"Things...are going to get a lot worse before you can make them get any better, Potter. I have to stand on this side because until the reckoning comes, my family is on this side. There are people I owe; don't laugh, but my friends. My Mother. To be with Hermione like I want, a lot-" his voice crackled and he paused a moment, clearing his throat and glancing down the gather himself. "-To be with her, I'm going to do some terrible things. I am probably going to end up hurting some of your friends, and for that I am sorry...but I won't hurt her. I won't let them win. I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe" he moistened his dry lips. Harry mulled this over and glanced at Hermione. 

"She's going to be a long way from you, where we're heading-" McGonagall looked sharp and opened her mouth to say something, but then decided against it in the same synapse. "-But there's someone else who is going to be here that I want you to look after" Draco nodded, understanding. 

"The Weaslette" 

"Oi!" said Ron. Draco and Harry glanced at him, then back to each other. 

"Yeah-" said Harry- "Just look after her, alright. 'Mione'll be fine" 

Then, with a flash of a smaller, dark haired boy in glasses, standing next to a Weasley in hand-me-down robes, Draco Malfoy stepped another step closer and held out his hand for Harry to shake. Only this time, he did.


	13. Chapter 13

"And that was it? She just...let you go?"

Draco wrapped the ribbon around his first and middle fingers and pulled it tight.

"Would you want to get in the middle of Pureblood loyalties?" he asked dryly.

Ginny made a face of agreement. There was, from outside, the CRUNCH of a hefty door swinging inwards hard and the muted THUD THUD THUD of feet heavy on the thick carpets. An alarm wailed and somebody shouted a counter-curse just in time. They both jumped and leaped for their wands.

"Quick, put that back!" Draco snarled, making for the door.

Scrambling, silently apologising in her head as the careful ordering was undone, Ginny shoved everything back into the trunk and slammed the lid shut. An edge of parchment and the tip of the quill were stuck in the gap, but there was nothing for it; the living steel was already flowing over it, sealing it tightly shut. Risking a look over her shoulder, she saw the flash of a Stunning Spell and her heart began to pound. Shoving the heavy trunk back into the hole, she couldn't shift the heavy flagstone; she was too weak and hurt. She cursed her own helplessness just as-

"Ginny! Where are you?"

"Neville!" she said to herself out loud and launched herself from her knees to her feet, limping quickly to the door and swinging onto the scene by the frame. The couch was overturned, Draco was on the floor, curled, blood dribbling from his eyebrow as Ernie, Justin, Luna, Anthony and Neville, scattered around the room, turned to look at her. She was alive, in decent health and wearing a pair of Malfoy's boxers with a black cashmere sweater. They saw this and breathed a sigh of relief. Ginny looked at Draco, looked at Neville and said; "Fuck"

* * *

 

Neville sat slumped in a chair, fingers clasped together and tapping his thumbs together rhythmically as he waited. A Hufflepuff first year girl was crying in Luna's lap nearby; he could hear the Ravenclaw girl crooning a lullaby about Plimplies. Scattered around, Dumbledore's Army waited. There was a heart-pounding feeling of terror that lay corporeal over their heads with the weight and heat of a woollen blanket.

"Neville, are you-"

"Yes Seamus" he said again.

The question had been asked so many times in the last quarter-hour that it was almost like clockwork; every two or three minutes, the Irish Gryffindor would work up the courage, or fear, it was hard to tell, to ask it again. He'd never felt so bloody terrified in his entire, eventful life. Taking another deep breath, quickened the beats of his thumb-twiddling, not noticing his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. Then, a delicate hand sat itself firmly on his knee and he looked up into Luna's slightly glazed blue eyes.

"Ginny will be right along now, Neville. You don't need to be so worried" she gave him one of her hazy summer's day smiles. Only this day, for the first time, he couldn't summon one in return.

"I'm sorry if I'm having a little difficulty believing that Draco-bloody-Malfoy is suddenly reformed and has been...with Hermione, since they were _twelve_ " he muttered, stumbling over the still alien concept. Luna shrugged.

"He never said he'd reformed. That's a good sign"

As was common, her comment drew confused expressions. She looked back at them. "Well, if he said he wasn't a Death Eater and that it was all a big mistake, then we'd know he was lying. Since he hasn't, it's probably a good bet he's going to be on our side" she explained slowly.

As was equally common, despite her lapses of vague insanity, Luna Lovegood had an irritating habit of, in her own way, making perfect sense. One knot of the many began to unwind itself in Neville's shoulders and he managed a half-smile for Luna. She had that effect on him, he realised as she smiled back and bounced to her feet. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to tell her. Then curtain began to shimmer and the room held its breath. A moment later, Draco appeared, blindfolded, hands in the air, flanked by Ginny and Anthony, holding wands. Ginny whipped the improvised blindfold, a Ravenclaw tie, off and for a moment the snake stood, blinking slowly and eyed the lion's den.

"Longbottom" he said finally, eyes alighting on the now standing Gryffindor.

"Malfoy" he replied cagily. He glanced around.

"So...the Room's had a bit of a make-over?"

"Has since you were last in here" Neville replied.

Not sure how to react to that, Draco just nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. Ginny, who had been talking to the Patel twins, turned to find them in a tense stand-off. She folded her arms and tapped her wand pointedly until Neville, with a world-weary sigh, nodded.

"Alright Malfoy. What did you find out?"

"That Aberforth Dumbledore is entirely willing to listen to a known Death Eater but not until he's in his backroom and then he's entirely lessthan willing"

There was a pause.

"Listening spells?" enquired Neville.

Draco nodded sharply. "In the bar, almost certainly, not in the backroom"

"So is he going to help us or not?" Dean Thomas didn't like Draco standing there. The Slytherin prince held his furious gaze for long enough to let them all know he refused to be cowed by them.

"Once I said I was with you lot, he took a little convincing. Ultimately, yes"

Everyone stiffened. Anthony Goldstein's hand strayed dangerous close to his wand pocket and Draco glanced back to keep an eye on the movement.

"Convincing?" questioned Neville, sounding tense.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well I didn't Crucio the old man, for the love of Morgana. I just...I revealed a little more than I would have liked, is all"

"He swallowed that?" asked Ginny, catching on, surprised.

Draco glared at her and muttered something to her alone. She snorted. "Not the one of her in bed I hope" she chuckled.

There was more than one set of extravagantly raised eyebrows at their private back-and-forth. Draco's eyes stabbed her viciously with blunt knives and she only smirked in reply. Turning his head back to Neville, he folded his arms.

"Fact of the matter is; he showed me, rather pointedly, a portrait of his sister on the back wall. Do you think you can ask the Room to put the tunnel to there?"

Neville shrugged. "It's always worth a shot, but we don't even know if we can make it give us a tunnel yet"

Draco's aristocratic nose wrinkled. "Another thing...he then spent long enough for me to get entirely bored talking about a meeting of a 'select few' in the backroom next week. Said if I was really with the DA, he'd see me there"

Neville and Ginny looked at each other.

"You think he means Order members?" asked Ginny. He was quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip in thought.

"Maybe-" he blurted finally and looked at Neville- "But it might be a trap and if it is, you shouldn't put the tunnel in"

Seamus snorted at the obviousness of this and was ignored. Draco hesitated and moistened his lips. His uncertainty drew looks; it was entirely un-Malfoy behaviour, after all.

"Can you lot hold off another week?" he asked then, softly, seriously, glancing pointedly at the growing number of permanent residents. A child began to cry and Luna moved off again. Ginny sat down and Neville looked around the room, reading the expressions of his people.

"We don't have much of a choice" Ginny said firmly, standing. She looked at Draco's hand as it went to a chain around his neck; it was a man's chain, but there was a locket on one of the links holding a brown curl. She looked away and for the first time hoped that Hermione didn't fall for Ron, feeling guilty even as the thought made itself cohesive.

And so the week past. A pack of werewolves moved onto the grounds permanently; the DA clashed with them violently in the first two days of their assignment. A group of the masked vigilantes burst into the classroom-turned-barracks and set them ablaze. Lavender Brown would hold her arm a little closer to her side when they walked past during the day. Luckily for her they'd used their claws and not their teeth. Snape had stood at the front and demanded that anyone who knew anything about the phoenix masks to come forward; he'd made them stand there until most of the first years had passed out and while they were occupied, their rooms were turned over. There was broken telescopes and torn books everywhere when they returned to their dorms. Professor Flitwick emerged from questioning with a split lip.

It was indeed a meeting of Order members in the backroom of the Hogs Head that evening. Draco had never been more relieved to see the lanky, scarred figure of Remus Lupin in his life, even if the ex-Professor had put him against the wall. Once things were explained, he'd ducked back out to collect Ginny and Neville from their loitering inside the Hogwarts barricades (Bill Weasley accompanying him) and when they'd returned, Molly Weasley was waiting anxiously by her husband's side. Draco and Neville both had the good sense to draw to one side while Ginny greeted her mother; there were relieved and joyful tears all around. They heard of the Trio's latest exploits, Neville and Ginny with the sort of hunger expected of the besieged, Draco with superficial bemused disinterest. They also laid down their plans for the extraction of those endangered students. While ignoring the warning burning against the skin of his left arm, Draco told all he knew of the increased security measures. The students, particularly those children of Ministry employees and the few Phoenix-inclined Purebloods, were being held more or less to ransom. Hogwarts was a vault of living, breathing insurance policies.

The tunnel was opened two days later and a week after that, the first bedraggled gang of refugees were escorted out of the tunnel, emerging from behind Ariana Dumbledore's portrait into the waiting arms of the Order. They took them, under the cover of night and wearing Fred and George's anti-hex hats, to the edges of the anti-Apparatition wards of the town and then they were gone. The new contact with the Order meant that they now had their own Wizarding Wireless in the Room. Potterwatch had a new and avid following in the Hogwarts Phoenixes. Dumbledore's Army continued to make themselves known, even as security had been tightened to strangulation levels as the number of students haemorrhaged. The Hog'N'Phoenix Trail, as it had come to be called, was draining students away one by one, but casualties had been claimed. An Order member and two escaping students were killed when the runaways were ambushed on the edge of Hogsmeade in one of the most recent runs. No Gryffindor had been allowed to eat for the last month; luckily for them, the Hogs Head kept the food flowing in. It wasn't the greatest, but it was normally edible. Ginny had been forced to ban the house elves from bringing them food or supplies; there were five elf heads mounted in the Great Hall as testament to the little creatures bravery and sacrifice. Draco Malfoy had found himself in over his head, yet again, and forced himself to draw away from the addicting brightness that was Dumbledore's Army. He almost enjoyed their company, and that was a major incident on his behalf. Allowing himself to get too close, allow himself to become attached or, Merlin forbid, loyaland it spelled doom for the precarious safety net he had wound around his family and the love of his life.

So he pretending, Salazar help him, he pretended with all his might, when he was called to Malfoy Manor for what should have been the school holidays. The home that he had been born and raised in was unrecognisable as anything but a cold, black stone tomb and torture chamber. The screams of the prisoners in what was once the wine cellar kept him up till late at night. And then...

She looked beautiful. Bedraggled, with blood on her lip and dark smudges under her eyes, she smelt like she hadn't had a proper shower in months, and he still thought she was beautiful. This wasn't what he wanted. As Lucius forced him to stare into the brilliance green orbs squished in swollen pockets of blown-up flesh, demanding he answer, demanding his seventeen-year-old son give him an escape from the horror his youth's decisions had brought him to, Draco's insides were on fire and screaming. He knew it was Potter; she wouldn't go anywhere without him, and he had promised to keep her safe. The situation was a blur, a bloody, painful blur.

"I can't be sure" he'd said, willing Potter with his eyes to have some sort of insane, half-plotted plan that under no circumstances could work and would work anyway, before this insecure state of affairs got any more dangerous.

And then it had.

* * *

 

"Ginny. Ginny wake up! Ginny!"

She jerked awake, throwing herself upright, wand against the cheekbone of the intruder. Seamus pulled away.

"Dammit women, what ya trying to do? Take me eye out-"

"Finnegan. What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she grated, cutting him off.

"Dispatch in HQ. Malfoy's been found" he snapped back.

She threw off her covers and grabbed for a robe. Lavender was standing, bags under her eyes, at the doorway. She'd been on duty in the Commonroom when the DA Galleon had warmed and Seamus came inside, assisted by the Fat Lady's silence, with the message from their communication equipment. He handed her their sketchy knock-off of the Marauder's Map and took over watch from Lavender. Under all the bows and ribbons and damn squealing, she was alright, he reflected as she trudged upstairs and Ginny disappeared into the dark corridor. Casting a silencing spell over her pounding feet, Ginny ran, stopping hurriedly at each corner to check for danger and Stunning a werewolf patrol to cross the corridor to the Room. Attacks on and from the new guards were becoming dangerously more common. They were just waiting for someone to be fully turned, and lingering on the precipice for news on a Gryffindor fourth year taken to the Medical wing a few weeks ago. Pushing through the curtained entrance designed to slow down any intruders, Ginny burst into the open, panting. Everyone looked up; there were currently six permanent residents of the Room, including Anthony Goldstein, waiting for the next Order-DA collaborated escape. The Ravenclaw potions expert looked up with his one good eye as she emerged, ruffled. The other had been blinded by a spell the Carrows had been using to try and find out more about the mysterious, all-powerful Dumbledore's Army. He was now on the menu and needed shifting as soon as possible, before the curse spread to his other eye. As she drew closer, everyone stepped aside and she realised it was Remus Lupin speaking from the other end.

"...have a chance for another week. Until then, Longbottom has a book someplace on Magical Water Plants and their Properties; Molly thinks there could be something in there to slow the spread"

"Alright, thanks Moony. Listen, the Lioness is here now, I'll hand you over"

Dean handed the speaker to her and stood.

"Let Neville get his sleep. Talk to him about the plant in the morning" Ginny told him quickly as she sat down. He nodded, standing by and folding his arms. Glancing around, she realised they'd been waiting for her and none of them yet knew what Remus had to say about Draco.

"This is the Lioness, Moony. I hear there's word on the Dragon?"

"There is. There was an altercation involving the Trio at the house of cards. The Strange found out that Godric's Queen and the Dragon are less than enemies..." Ginny caught her breath. There was a wave of murmuring as everyone took this in. Remus continued, unaware of the impact his words were having. "...-needless to say, she wasn't pleased. Bad Faith Mama was killed, possibly at the hand of Bad Faith Papa, that is unsubstantiated. The Dragon is at the Phoenix's nest, and the Trio are at a safe house. The Dragon is being moved there. Will advise what the Trio's next move is; at the moment, we know they're going after another one"

Here, a cheer bubbled from a few throats and smiles abounded. Ginny, a smile cracking the ice of her face, waved for quiet.

"That's bloody brilliant news. The Barracks is overjoyed to hear that. Is the Dragon badly hurt?"

A crackling pause. "Yes. It could have been much worse, Lioness, but I'm not sure how" Remus said grimly.

Silence; somebody muttered to their friend and Dean rubbed his chin, the stubble grating against his hand.

"Is he going to be okay?" Ginny asked anxiously. 

"I don't know, Lioness. I just don't know" replied Remus tiredly. 


	14. Chapter 14

"You realise she's gunna kill us?"

"Yeah"

"You realise she's going to hex our bullocks off and _then_ kill us?"

"Yeah"

"Possibly make us-"

"Ron!"

The tall, red-haired young man threw his hands in the air and stalked away, leaving Harry to his vigil by the front door of Shell Cottage. He turned his head over his shoulder and watched Ron pace for a moment before looking at to the empty beach.

"Where is she anyway?"

Ron glanced up. He'd quit pacing and had sprawled his lanky form into an armchair.

"Upstairs with Fleur, I think...Harry, is this a good idea?"

There was a pop outside, and voices; Bill, and then the immediately recognised, deep chirp of Lee Jordan. Ron leapt up and Harry followed him to the door. A moment after that there was a surprised cry from Ron and Harry craned his neck over his shoulder. His jaw dropped; there was a body sprawled over Jordan's shoulder. The limp head was down, chin to chest, blonde hair turned black and red by dried and fresh blood. There were spots of blood on the shirt, one of Lupin's old oxfords, healed wounds across his face and the deathly pallor of someone who had recently consumed a lot of Skell-O-Grow.

"Bloo-dy hell" he managed.

Harry glared at him. Bill spoke roughly; "Don't just stand there! Get Hermione! And Fleur" he snapped, the almost-corpse now strung like an empty skin between him and Harry. From between swollen, split lips, a wordless moan bubbled at the sound of her name. Harry and Ron exchanged a quick, startled and worried expression before Harry hesitated and nodded, just slightly. As fragile as Hermione was, she and she alone held the ability to give this tortured scarecrow reason to keep drawing strangled, bloody breath into his bruised and battered lungs. Ron took one more look and then took off up stairs. As gently as they could, Harry and Jordan put Draco down on the couch. He gasped as one of them unknowingly bumped some cut, bruise, laceration or burn and then went quiet. Harry gritted his teeth in hatred. He was no fan of Draco Malfoy, Hermione's secret lover or not, but nobody deserved this.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded of Jordan, who was now looking deeply into the fireplace. He jerked his head up to study him. Bill had gone outside, apparently to make sure all the Cottages wards were still in place.

"Malfoy Manor was razed, the Dark Mark put up. Lupin and the twins got there first...they...decided it would be better if his whereabouts were kept...quiet. We don't know how the rest of the Order would react...listen, Harry, Lupin told us...about Draco and Hermione. We figured that was why he was tortured-"

"Hang on, how did he know about them?" Harry exclaimed. So much for secret affair! Jordan looked spooked.

"McGonnagal, I think. I dunno, Harry. I'm just the delivery boy" the humour sounded forced, and it probably was.

Harry rubbed his face tiredly and gestured to him to continue, looking at Draco. He remembered turning and seeing Draco with his wand out in Hermione and Ron's general direction. He'd acted without thinking; he still, despite Hermione's assurances, did not trust Draco Malfoy. Not since the night on the Astronomy Tower; he couldn't make the two sides he'd seen meld, the Draco who had held his best friend's hand and the Draco who had exposed the Dark Mark and let it taint the skyline of Hogwarts. It was, by default, probably his fault that his ex-peer was in this condition.

"What about the Horcruxes?" Lee asked then, bringing him back to the present.

"Three down, four to go. We think the next one's in Lestrange's vault"

Beside them, Draco flinched and a choked sound hissed from his bloodied lips.

"Sorry" said Harry to him, automatically.

"Thanks for the update. You know we're all with you, one hundred per cent"

"Thanks Lee...how's Mrs Weasley?" he asked, quickly. The darker boy nodded.

"She's alright. Keeping everyone well fed, for sure"

"And Mr Weasley?" Lee hesitated, glancing at the stairs as if for Ron.

"Everyone's working pretty hard, mate. I'm not gunna lie, because you know they've infiltrated the Ministry; the old man copped it pretty hard. And, not that Ron'll really care, but Percy did too"

Harry swallowed a mouthful of bile as Hermione, Ron and Fleur came down the stairs. Ron caught the tail-end of the conversation and frowned, before grabbing ahold of Hermione's arm. Fleur, walking in front of her, had already made a strangled, gasping sound that made the colour drain from his best friend's face.

"It's not pretty-" he tried to warn her. She gave him a withering glare and shook him off. As her eyes fell to the pale, destroyed shell of the man she loved, a light shut off in her eyes as it was flooded with tears. Harry reached for her, too slow. She fell heavily on her knees next to him and smoothed back reddened locks of his hair. At her contact he murmured and crooked a swollen eye. She smiled at him through the tears and gently took his hand; his fingers were all broken.

"Oh, Draco...you wonderful, beautiful idiot!" she sniffled, waving her wand over his hand. His back arched with the pain as the bones rearranged themselves and set with sickening snaps. Hermione's shoulder jerked as if she felt the pain herself, but was rewarded with a battered smile.

"I'll get ze potions for ze pain" Fleur announced and hurried out.

"Hello to you too, Eltanin" Draco rasped. She made a wrenching sound between a sob and a chuckle and kissed him, with lips like a butterflies wings, breathing strength back into his broken form. He sighed as she pulled away and wiped a streak of blood from the side of her lips with his newly repaired hand.

"Ow" he said softly.

"I'm sure you'll have worse"

He grinned and made a moist, convulsing rumble that could have been agonising laughter. Then suddenly Fleur was there and she and Hermione took control, Hermione's quick voice putting everyone else in motion. Ron, fetch the Essence of Dittany from my bag, and a spell book from the floor in her room, Fleur ordered Jordan to stop hovering, stoke the fire, find some blankets, get me a bucket of warm water. Ron began to suspect she was just telling them to do things and fetch this and that just to keep them out of her hair while she and Fleur carefully put Draco back together. He never said it any louder than a whisper while standing outside with Harry and Bill, because anything they did was liable to be worth one of her lethal glares.

"She must have learned that from the Basalisk, mate" Ron declared, scuffing his foot in the sand at the Cottage's front door.

Jordan broke the tense silence by asking if Narcissa Malfoy had been alive on their miraculous departure from the Manor; they said she'd been alive when Dobby had arrived to rescue them, and they exchanged their budget of news.

"Not a lot of good, sorry, blokes. That girl of yours is right in the thick of the hellhole that we used to call school. They've got werewolves in the halls. There's about twenty dead, but that's the ones we know of. Two kids got turned last month" He told them about the Hog'n'Phoenix trail out of the castle and Harry stored this information away for future reference. In return, they told him about the sword of Gryffindor, the doe and their plan to get into Gringotts. Lee laughed in dark humour, recalling the almost-legendary story of the brewing the Polyjuice Potion in second year.

"I don't know anyone whose Patronus is a doe. Sorry mate, don't think it was the Order" he added.

"Then who the hell was it?" Harry cursed.

Fleur appeared and told them Draco was sitting down with minimal wincing. Hermione sat next to him and handed him a cup of tea. He smiled at her, a healing cut in the corner of his mouth cracking. Biting her lip, Hermione dabbed the blood away gently with the corner of a handkerchief.

"What happened?" asked Harry. He was standing before the fireplace, arms folded, watching them. Ron and Jordan stood to the side. Fleur and Bill had gone upstairs with Olivander and Griphook. Draco sipped the tea and rested it on his knee so he could hold Hermione's hand with the other. Ron's eyes narrowed as he followed the gesture.

"I was taken after you Apparated. They wanted to know where you'd gone. They wanted to know everything...I said I knew nothing which...was half the truth..."

"Half the truth?"

"They wanted to know about the Horcruxes. How much you knew. Hermione had asked me about them, early on-"

"All Draco knew about them were that they were very dark magic and that Lucius had been protecting one for Voldemort, for a while" Hermione cut in, almost defensive.

"The diary?" asked Ron.

Draco nodded and Ron's face twitched as another notch was added next to the elder Death Eater's name; he was now footing the bill for the nights Ginny woke up screaming at Tom Riddle to _leave her alone!_

"They put me under truth serum eventually. They know about this" he held up he and Hermione's entwined hands. Harry's reaction was to wince. Ron swore.

"You bloody idiot! As if she wasn't in enough danger before!" he raged, and punched the wall next to the mantle pointlessly. Draco put his tea aside and stood up, eyes flashing. Hermione stood too, looking worried. Jordan tensed.

"I was under Veritaserum, Weasley, there wasn't a lot I could do!"

"You should have done something !If she dies, it's on your bloody head now!"

"Ron! _No_ -"

"That's _bullocks_ Weasel! If it's anyone's fault its Potter's!-"

"Don't you bloody drag him into this you greasy twat!"

"Ron, stop it-"

"Malfoy, sit down-" "

She's not yours to protect!"

Silence lacerated the group in two. Everyone froze at Draco's words. Hermione stood behind him, clutching his arm and pleading with Ron, Harry stood with one arm around Ron's neck and the other across his chest, physically holding him back, and Lee Jordan stood between them. Anger still blazing in his eyes, Draco shook Hermione off and stepped up as far as Jordan would allow him.

"She's not yours to protect! Yes, I've probably made her a target, but she was already! And if she wasn't she wouldn't be your poxy friend!"

Panting, Ron and Draco continued to face off. The room was electric; you could cut the air with a knife. Finally, Harry loosened his hold on Ron.

"Look Malfoy, we didn't get much of a chance to talk last year-" he gestured to the two of them. "-You know this complicated. It's...not just a matter of who you are, or who I am, or the stupid stuff we did at school; she's my best mate...she's like, like a sister. You wanna be with her, Malfoy? You can't run.You gotta _protect_ her. If you hurt her-"

"Hurt her? Get stuffed, Scarface-"

Before Hermione could say anything, and before either Jordan or Harry could react, Ron surged forward and had thrown a cracker of a punch, directly at Draco's face. He crumpled, and Hermione went down with him, sinking to her knees by his side.

"For God's sake Ronald!" she shouted.

Ron ignored her; his hands were clenched ready for another round. "Watch your bloody mouth, ferret! Neither of us have any reason to trust you a bit. We could throw you to the Order if we wanted. Betcha Daddy'd pay a bloody fortune to have you back" Ron spat. Hermione half sat up, ready to spit flames at him, but Draco's hand on her wrist stayed her. There was a moment of silence as he examined Ron and Harry carefully.

"The only reason my _daddy_ would want me back, Weasley, is to hang me upside-down in a public place...but I probably deserved that. Carry on, Potter" he conceded grudgingly.

Harry nodded and Ron stepped back from his noticeably offensive position. Harry licked his lips before continuing; "You're right when you say it's because she's friends with me that she's a target. Thing is they're going to be after her to bait you now, aren't they? As you say; Lucius wants you back. If only to...you know. Question is; how far are you willing to take this? Would you die for her? Would you die for our cause? Where do you stand now, Draco? Because at the moment, you're wanted by both the Order and the Death Eaters"

He glanced at Jordan for assurance on this. He hesitated and gave an almost unperceivable nod. Draco pulled himself liquidly to his feet and faced Harry, hands fisted, and didn't hesitate in his reply.

"Whatever it takes, Potter. I will do, whateverit takes to keep her safe. If that means swearing to the Order, so be it...as long as when we catch up to Lucius, I'm the one who puts him down" he spat this last part viciously. Harry raised his eyebrow questioningly as Hermione stood up. Draco was shifting so he could put his arm pointedly around her shoulders. She used the new leverage to help him back onto the couch. She almost raised her wand to heal the bruise blossoming beautifully on his face, and then decided not to. He had been acting like a git. Finally, Draco looked up and saw Harry's questioning look.

"He killed my mother, Potter" he ground out. Harry and Draco stared at each other for a long moment. Impossibly, there was an actual flash of understanding between them. Then Harry turned to Jordan and jerked his head. They disappeared upstairs, leaving Ron, Draco and Hermione standing awkwardly by the fireplace. She looked at Draco and found him staring right back at her. His hand brushed her cheek.

"I swear to God and Merlin you're the most gorgeous damn thing I've ever laid eyes on, Hermione" he whispered.

Stoking the fire, Ron choked and stood up quickly. His cheeks were blazing red and it wasn't from the heat of the flames. "I'm just...going...over to...got something over there, to do...something" he bustled off into the kitchen.

Hermione giggled and brushed Draco's hair back. "That was Ron being tactful" she said dryly, raising a smirk and a chuckle from him.

He leaned back onto the arm of the couch and pulled her close. For a long time they were quiet. Hermione's scent surrounded him and he exalted in it. He didn't want to close his eyes in case this all turned out to be another dream, and fought the inevitable exhaustion. At any moment he felt that he was going to wake up; still chained in the basement, waiting in the agony and darkness to die of starvation. Upstairs, there was the sound of shouting, Harry's furious tones echoing through the house. Hermione, bestowing a gentle kiss to Draco's temple, stood and hurried upstairs. The voices quietened. Not long later, Harry appeared with the others. Jordan said his goodbyes; Draco shook his hand and thanked him formally for his help. Jordan grinned heartily and left. Fleur called for help in the kitchen; Ron and Hermione left. There was the sound of bowls and pots and soon after the smell of soup on the stove.


	15. Chapter 15

For a long time, neither Harry nor Draco spoke. Draco's eyes were drifting shut, lulled by the fire, Hermione's soft voice in quiet but spirited conversation with Ron, and the smell of cooking. Then Harry did, softly;

"I am Sirius Black's heir. He was my godfather"

Draco's silver-grey eyes flew open in shock, but as soon as the surprise had registered, he realised that it probably made sense. Harry continued.

"Being his heir, when he died, I became head of the Black family. I was talking to Jordan-"

"That's what they're calling it nowadays" Draco commented dryly. Harry's green eyes pierced him angrily, but it only took a few moments before the anger faded away and his shoulders slumped. Some habits die hard, after all.

"We didn't fight. I just...got mad. At how things are at Hogwarts"

Their eyes met. Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Harry kept talking, looking into the fire now.

"We've got a plan to make you disappear. It might keep you safe from Vo-him,at least for a little while anyway. Change your identity. I'd adopt you, into the house of Black, change your name. It's not exactly ideal for you, I know, but at least they're Pure-Bloods-"

"Yes. I'll do it"

Harry turned sharply. "I was thinking there would be more sneering and arguing" he commented, trying to read Draco's closed features. The young man shrugged.

The truth was, he jumped at the idea because it sounded so perfect. A chance, an opportunity, to leave everything of the last few years of his life, and for a large part even beyond that, behind. Let the sinner burn in the past. Maybe Draco Black could be a good man...a man worthy of Hermione.

"Draco Black, Order of the Phoenix" he said firmly, a voice he barely recognised as his own.

Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his face in the firelight. Suddenly, he stuck out his hand.

"Harry Potter"

For a vivid, fleeting moment, they were both eleven years old again. Draco was standing before the living legend; The Boy Who Lived with his scar and the red-headed Blood Traitor by his side.

_"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy...you'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter.You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there"_

He grinned and stood up to shake his hand firmly. The new name, the new persona, the new identity, the new life, rolled off his tongue like sweet honey in all the promises that it sheltered.

* * *

 

**Battle of Hogwarts; approximately 2am**

Draco Malfoy was standing alone, one hand on his shoulder where it had been wretched from its socket as he tried in vain to save a boy who used to be his friend; Goyle's screams still echoed in his head as the Fiendfyre consumed him and everything else in its path. Across the courtyard, the Death Eater's faced them. His grey eyes skimmed familiar faces and found his father, standing bedraggled and pathetic towards the back. For a moment, he almost pitied the man. Then, again, he saw his mother fall in a flash of green and the pity burned away. Rocks skittered on the cobblestones and he glanced over his shoulder. Hermione, with Ron a step behind her. Their eyes met and he actually smiled. Underneath the blood, smoke and the foul musk of Dark spells, he could still taste her lips.

* * *

 

 

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry shouted.

"Chamber of Secrets" said Draco.

"Chamber-what?" said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt before them.

"It was Ron, all Ron's idea!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it?-"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, Weasley's a genius. We got it. What now Potter?" Draco cut her off irately, apparently unable to stand her singing Ron's praises.

"So..." Harry was struggling to keep up. "So..."

" _So_ we're another Horcrux down. Keep up Potter!"

"How did you even get in there?" he asked, ignoring Draco, staring from the fangs to Ron. The red-head and Hermione looked at Draco, who shrugged.

"Hermione stabbed it. Ron reckoned she should; she hasn't had the pleasure" he muttered.

"Genius!" Harry shouted.

There was an explosion, rocking the corridor, and the four of them were dusted in fine stone powder. Hermione coughed. Quickly, Harry quickly unloaded his theory about the Room of Requirement. Another explosion shuddered through the stone and Draco looked at the roof.

"I'll leave you three to-ah, bloody hell, wait on! The kitchens!"

"The kitchens?" exclaimed Harry; he and Ron were already heading for the Room. Draco looked at them as though they were stupid, but Ron caught on a split second later.

"The elves" he said.

"You want them to fight?" Hermione cried, indignation in her voice. A puce-coloured jet of light zapped past them. They ducked; Hermione put the Death Eater at the end of the corridor down with a spell nobody recognised. It threw him off his feet and he disappeared.

"No, you twat-" Draco continued as if nothing had happened. "-We have to get the bloody things out of here, and we don't exactly have time for Potter to be handing out socks"

"You mean tell them to get out?" Ron asked.

Draco nodded. There was a clatter as the Basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Draco, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Draco responded with such enthusiasm that he swung her off the ground and twirled her in a circle.

"Is this the moment?-" Ron questioned thin air weakly and then cleared his throat. It didn't rouse the elated couple and he ended up shouted to get their attentions; "Oi! You two! We're in the middle of a war here!" 

* * *

 

"You seen Harry?" Ron asked then, pulling Draco from his elated memory. He shook his head negative, but then, from the front, they heard a terrible scream. McGonnagal. They turned as one. Their eyes fell then to Hagrid and his dark-haired burden.

"No!" "No!"

"Harry! _Harry_!" Hermione's legs gave out and she fell into Draco, who caught her up instinctively.

"Fuck..." he said, his stomach dropping and his heart freezing heavily in his chest. He held Hermione tighter as she choked on his name, the silencing spell blanketing them then, and couldn't take his eyes from Harry's corpse, now lying at Voldemort's feet.

"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him"

Hermione sobbed. Draco sucked in a breath sharply from his teeth and Ron stepped past them, punching the air as he shouted. "He beat you!" Cheers, and then silence again. With arms outspread, Voldemort called for traitors. Nobody moved. Lucius, from behind the main pack, skirted the ranks and from across the battlefield, looked at Draco. His hold on Hermione tightened protectively as he loosened his hold on his wand, should his father try anything.

"Draco" he called, encouragingly. The gathered defenders of Hogwarts turned their heads. Those who did not know of the love burning between Godric's Queen and Slytherin's Prince gasped or muttered to see him standing with her by his side. Only Hermione heard Draco soft sound of disgust.

"How about you come over here, _father_?" he spat it like a curse. 

Lucius' mouth set in a hard line. Draco sneered. He wasn't looking at Voldemort; his first mistake. Ginny, however, saw the monster's eyes narrow and the Elder Wand's twitch. Then she heard Draco's scream. Lucius gave a strangled cry, stepping forward as if to his son's aid, but then he shrunk away. Ginny turned in his father's arms and saw Draco's blonde head drop, Hermione crouching with him. He was gripping his left arm tightly, teeth gritted as burning agony ripped up his arm and across his chest, spreading like a thick, black flood from the Mark scorched into his flesh.

"Draco, Draco?" Hermione's voice was high and panicked as she held him. He gasped, a low, deep sound and hissed hoarsely in pain. The Mark began to weep, and then bleed. Falling back, against Ron, who had also crouched, he felt the hot, jagged penetration of another mind and pushed Hermione away with his right arm.

"He's in my head" he managed to wheeze gutturally. The pain hit the front of his mind, sweeping across him and meeting the agony beginning in his arm, before Voldemort discovered the 'box' where he had long ago hidden all evidence of his love. It appeared to him much like the blood-locked chest in the flagstone underneath his bed and was equally as impossible to get inside, but it didn't stop the creature from painfully trying. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, the presence was gone. He gasped, a man finding the surface of deep, black waters, and heard Neville's rallying cry to the DA as the world swam back into focus. Slughorn was standing next to him, somebody else at his other side. Blinking, he flexed his hand and looked for the mark. Hermione had torn her sleeve and wrapped it snugly; the shine of wet blood appeared against the singed black material as he met her worried eyes.

"Bloody hell! Neville killed it, Hermione! Neville did it!" Ron was shouting. He and Hermione stood then, quickly, and sure enough, Neville stood with the Sword of Gryffindor still dripping blood before the Death Eater horde.

"Where's Harry? Where's Harry's body?" somebody was shouting as the battle began anew.

In the explosion of movement, Hermione was jostled from his side, but he saw a flash of Ron's red hair and twisted to dodge a curse that sizzled past his ribcage. Returning a counter-curse, he shielded a stranger who fell hard against a stack of stone and bounded towards the flash of long, blonde hair on the edge of the mob. The Malfoy men had a date with destiny.


	16. Chapter 16

Standing back from her grieving family, Ginny took in the devastation hanging over the Great Hall and tried to catch her breath. It felt like somebody was trying to tear her lungs out through her mouth and had stuffed her head with cotton wool. On top of that, she refused to believe her brother, her Freddie, was dead. It grated against her heart like unpolished stone.

"Oi, Weasley!"

She whirled. Draco Malfoy was limping through the crowd towards her. His hair was tingled brilliantly red, whether with his own blood or somebody else's, it was impossible to tell. His black clothes were torn, ripped and altogether battered. His wand was still clenched in one hand and there were burns shining on the skin of his arm. Hermione's impromptu field dressing had fallen from his left arm and she could see a hint of the Mark's inky curves through the thick smear of blood. She couldn't summon the words; instead, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. At first surprised, Draco almost recoiled, but she clung on. Finally he hugged her back.

"Careful, Weasley. Somebody might think you give a shit" he drawled when she stepped back. Her eyes were overbright as she tried to laugh.

"So what happened?" he questioned then.

"What?"

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, a vague reference to the maelstrom of the preceding hours.

"I was...tied up. Potter did make it after all that, didn't he?"

Ginny nodded, sniffing hard and wiping her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. Um...it was...I don't know. It was just..."

He laid a hand on her shoulder. Their eyes met. "I know" he choked out.

Her eyebrows slanted and she searched his expression. "Did you...Lucius?"

His jaw line jumped as he clenched his teeth. "Dead" was all he said.

"Mum killed Bellatrix" commented Ginny then, carefully.

Draco swallowed. His expression was tense; he bit his lip hard. It was impossible to tell how he felt, because he had no idea what emotion to identify first. After all, here was a young man who had long ago turned his back on his heritage in the name of love, and was standing here on the other side of the river which had swept away the evil of the world. In complete equality with that figure was a boy who had just lost his entire family.

Mother; murdered by her own husband, the father of her beloved child.

Father; murdered by his own son.

Aunt; murdered by a friend's mother.

Draco blinked hard at that last thought and looked sharply at Ginny.

"What?" she questioned, disturbed by his expression.

"Bugger!" he told her harshly. She raised her eyebrows.

" _What_?" she repeated.

"You-" he pointed his index finger at her nose accusatorily. "-I wasn't meant to give a damn about you, and now you're my damn friend!"

For a long moment, she just stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind. Then she laughed, a pure white sound of mirth startled from the very depths of her battered heart and they hugged again. Draco, DracoMalfoy, was grinning; it was light and honest and a little crooked but it made Ginny smiled too, because she'd only ever seen it once in a picture and it was far more beautiful in reality.

"Have you seen Hermione?" she asked then, because the sight led her inescapably to his brown-eyed girl. His grin faded. His hands still on Ginny's arms where they had fallen after their embrace, he scanned the Great Hall.

"I haven't seen her since back at the courtyard" he said, worried. Ginny pulled away; they were still connected, gripping wrists unconsciously.

"She'll be with-" Ginny began and then trailed off. Harry, Ron and Hermione had stepped into the Great Hall, arm-in-arm. It was more a practical embrace than any show of comradeship; Harry was showing all the signs of sleep deprivation and Ron looked like he'd been thrown through a solid stone wall. Hermione was limping, sweat and blood plastering her curls to her neck and forehead. A few people cheered, but there were more tired smiles and polite claps on the back to the passing heroes. Now was not the time for celebration. That would come later. Draco turned to see what had made Ginny's face pale quite that much and found her, standing there to one side of Harry, head held high.

Their eyes met across the room and before he could flinch, he was running to meet her. They met in the middle and stood there, two sides of a coin, both bathed in brilliant light pouring through the broken stained glass. Now, as Godric's Queen and Slytherin's Heir stood together, foreheads pressed together, lingering in each other's breaths, was the time for healing.


End file.
